The Savior
by jazwriter
Summary: Emma works for attorney Regina Mills as her paralegal. As they become closer, Emma battles her developing feelings for her irresistible boss. Henry has always lived with Emma. He is a bit older than canon. Several OUAT characters will make appearances throughout the story. I have already finished writing the story. SwanQueen/Swen
1. Prologue

**The Savior**

 **Summary:** Emma works for attorney Regina Mills as her paralegal. As they become closer, Emma battles her developing feelings for her irresistible boss.

 **Author's Notes:** Somehow this turned into a Christmas fic, although it doesn't begin that way. This is a hurt/comfort fic, and I am not a medical professional. Henry has always lived with Emma. He is a bit older than canon. You'll recognize several OUAT characters who make appearances throughout the story. AU SwanQueen/Swen.

 **Disclaimers** : I'm a lawyer and a piss-ant (and I am also called many other "nicknames" given to me over time in bouts of affection, joy, grief, and aggravation, but I won't share them here). Suffice it to say, I am merely offering this story for its entertainment value, and it's protected by the fair use doctrine. I am receiving no profit, but hopefully I will receive some kind words from delighted readers for my efforts.

 **Oh, yeah** —I do not own _Once Upon a Time, ABC, Disney,_ any of their affiliates, any of their characters, thoughts, feelings, or endless sources of money. I do own a law firm and law school loan debts.

 **Rating** : eventual M/NC-17

 **Betas are awesome!** I appreciate the insight and feedback from my betas, firebird93 and my special guest beta, XV! I owe them a special thank you for reading my story and diplomatically telling me how to make it better. I appreciate their support and candid feedback. That said, I did incorporate some of their ideas once I received their feedback, so any mistakes are mine, all mine. Just mine. Always mine.

 **This is comprised of a Prologue, five chapters, and an Epilogue. Yes, I have finished it!**

* * *

 **Prologue**

 **Now: December 23**

And it doesn't matter who or why or how. Emma doesn't try to figure out any of those oh-so-important factors. She doesn't have time, and she just needs to act, just act for once instead of waiting and thinking and wondering and hoping. Because now there's no time. There's no time, and she has to save them. Henry and Regina. No matter what.

She saw him storm in. Saw him with the rifle and the ammunition and the resolute expression on his face. She knows he won't listen. Won't talk. Won't reason. He is on a mission, and she cannot let it happen.

It's not that she's particularly brave or has a hero complex or wants to risk her life. Or die. No, she doesn't want to die. She's no savior. Not at all.

She knows how to fight, though. Knows how to take a punch and throw one, too. Knows how to read body language. Knows how to read the intent in a person's eyes.

So, no, she doesn't have a death wish, and she doesn't want to be the one he runs through to get to his ultimate target. But she will make an exception this time. She won't hide. She won't hope for someone else to step up and save the day. No one else is here, is ready, is willing, has as much to lose. Everything to lose.

Of all of them, everyone on this level, in these offices, in this building, she's the most expendable. She's the most fucked-up. She's the one no one wanted. No one needed. Thrown around the foster care system until she'd aged out, on her own while pregnant, a single parent for her boy, Emma knows her worth. It wasn't until her son...but he's in danger now, and if one of them is to die, it has to be her.

This is all her fault, after all. Henry shouldn't even be here. She'd allowed him to visit each day after school for months, taking advantage of Regina's unexpected indulgence and selfishly not looking for anyone to watch him during those few hours each day between the time school ended and the time she left work. All so that she'd know he was safe.

How ironic.

Coming out of the restroom, though, she saw the man striding down the hallway, shooting each person he met, ignoring the screams and the cries and the whimpers. She recognizes him, knows he is a disgruntled client. Former client. Someone who has lost everything, even though Regina fought so hard for him in court. Fought to save his livelihood for months. Now he has nothing to lose, and he wants to inflict harm. He wants others to hurt as he is hurting, and he cannot imagine living this life, his life, for even another minute.

Emma knows all this by the look in his eyes, the way he holds himself, his disregard for anything other than his endgame: kill Regina Mills. The one who lost him everything. He has no money, no company, no wife, no reason to live.

Emma worked on his file, knows his case. Remembers the weariness on Regina's face and the regret dripping off each word once the case ended. The second-guessing and endless research. Regina mentioned just yesterday how she was determining whether they might be able to appeal the court decision. A pro bono case. A white knight's crusade. But the knight came back from the fight bloodied and bruised. And now the knight must be saved.

Running down a parallel hallway, Emma pulls Henry out of his seat and into Regina's office. She takes in the moment, wishing she had done so many things. Said so many things. It's too late now.

Regina wears a sexy although professional ensemble: a slate-gray three-piece pantsuit, tailored perfectly to showcase her curves and femininity. The silvery silk, button-down shirt is unbuttoned enough to show cleavage, cleavage Emma wishes she had been given the privilege of exploring with more than her eyes. And the slacks hug Regina's sculpted backside perfectly. It's one of Emma's favorite outfits, and she can't help but believe Regina knows it. The first time Emma saw her in it, she walked into a door, the thunk reverberating through the office as Regina quickly controlled her smirk. But not quickly enough. Blushing hard, Emma carried on as if she hadn't just made a fool of herself, and Regina was kind enough to play along.

Now Regina rises in surprise, a question on her lips, and Emma says in a voice that brooks no arguments, no questions, "Get under your desk, and don't move. Henry, go with her." She can hear the screaming, the chaos, the terror floating through the halls. Can see Regina's eyes flying to the door, trying to make sense of the sounds floating into her oasis of calm. She prefers silence while she works.

Emma throws her son's backpack behind the desk and says as she takes one last look at him, at her, one more long, heart-wrenching look, "Don't come out unless I tell you to or the police do. Call 911. I love you." Her voice cracks, and she cannot keep herself from moving her eyes to Regina's beautiful face, stalling for one more precious moment to make sure her message is received. By both. She drinks in striking, mesmerizing, coffee-colored eyes. Those expressive eyes that well up as they ask questions Emma has no time to address. Because she hears him. He is nearly here. Her time is up.

She flicks the lights off, closes the office door, and slides into her seat at the receptionist's desk just as he turns the corner. It's where she sits every day as Regina's paralegal. Has sat for the last eight months. She loves her job, loves coming to work every day, loves impressing her boss. Loves her boss.

But she can't think about that now. Not now as he levels the semiautomatic rifle at her and demands, "Where is she? Where's that bitch?"

His eyes look behind her, sees the closed door, the dark office. It's probably what saves Emma's life. What's saving their lives. He wants to get to Regina, and he knows Emma is his best bet.

Raising her hands slowly, Emma shows him that she is unarmed. "She's in court," she tries, her voice calmer than she feels. Her heart thumps so fast. So fast. It echoes in her ears, nearly drowning out what he says. And he must hear it, too, must know she is afraid. Not for herself, though. Never for herself.

"Don't lie to me!" he shouts, death in his voice.

"I'm not," Emma says, staring into bloodshot eyes. "I'm not. We've met before. I've talked to you on the phone. I'm Emma Swan, her paralegal." _And the one who's dreamed of so much more._ "I can help you. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"I want that bitch, Mills. She ruined my life," he screams, spittle hitting the desk between them. He wiggles the rifle in her face, reminding her that she has seconds left. Seconds before he is through with her. Through her. "Tell me where she is, or I'll kill you."

"I'm just, I just work here. I don't know where she is. It's early afternoon. She may be eating a late lunch or meeting with someone before she comes back to the office." She hopes he believes her, widening her eyes to reflect innocence and honesty as Henry so often does. Henry who is here because it's his winter break and Regina insisted his presence does not bother her.

She rises slowly, hands still up, creating a shield between her and Regina's office. "Look, you seem upset. Let me get you some coffee, and we can talk about it. You like it with cream and two sugars, right? I remember from when you were here last. You know, Regina has been researching ways to appeal your case. I can go over it with you, help you," she says with soft, warm intonations, hoping to break through to him. As she speaks, she steps to her right, standing in front of the door, diagonally across from the gunman, even as he swivels to keep the rifle trained at her heart. If she can keep him distracted, keep him away from the door, maybe the police will make it in time to stop him from hurting anyone else. Besides her. She's practically dead now. Living on borrowed time. Not that she matters. She doesn't matter.

"I don't want your help," he says, anger clear in his gravelly, bottomless voice. He needs to hurt someone, and Emma is in front of him. Emma who works for the woman who was unable to save him from losing every important part of his life. Emma who stands between a devil and an angel. Her angel. Her guardian. Her hero. Certainly Regina has saved her from loneliness. Heartache. Unrequited love.

It doesn't matter anymore. She sees death in his eyes.

She hopes Regina will watch over Henry. Help him. They've developed a bond over the months. Emma was thrilled to see it happen, wanting Regina's affection to extend to her, too. Until recently, Emma relied on dreams and hopes and desires to fill her lonely heart. With Henry, Regina's eyes crinkle when she smiles.

Emma has experienced that smile lately, too, that genuine expression of pleasure directed her way. Last week. Just last week at the company holiday party in Regina's home was the first time Emma experienced that particular, breathtaking smile. And every day this week. Emma can name every single time her heart jolted and her breathing stuttered. And she will never forget the kiss they shared at the party under the mistletoe that night. Her taste. Her passion. Her promise.

Here it is, two days before Christmas. Friday. Just moments before Emma was intending to give Regina a Christmas present she agonized over. Well-planned, wrapped with high hopes and an open heart. Henry urged her to buy it, to give it. To be brave. He knows Emma's feelings. He loves Regina, too.

Roaring at the unfairness of life, at the man who intends to hurt her to get to Regina, who threatens to hurt Henry, who has hurt so many others, Emma lunges forward, tackling the man's knees. She hears a crack, a scream, and shots. She hears office windows shattering, voices shouting, and feet running. She feels herself bouncing against the ground as she hangs on to the man's legs, feels fists on her back, feels blood against her skin, feels pain throughout her body.

"Mom!" Emma hears, and she yells, "Get back!"

Scrabbling up the man's legs, pulling the rifle away, striking his chin with the butt of the weapon, Emma is in survival mode. He doesn't move, and Emma pants, trying to breathe through the pain. The agony.

 _Breathe, Emma. Breathe._

She rests against his body, even as bile rises in her throat at being so close to him, and holds the rifle across his neck. Not allowing herself to relax even if he's unconscious. He reeks of alcohol, death, and despair, and she fights her body's urge to vomit.

Pounding. That's what she hears. What she feels. What she tastes. The pounding of her heart. Of her head. Of her blood. It overtakes her. Surrounds her. Consumes her. She sees blackness flittering along the edges of her vision, and the sounds converge as the pain intensifies.

She feels arms pulling her off the unconscious man, hears Regina's worried voice and her son's cries, and she knows that although she's no hero, no savior, no one worth anything, she has protected the only two people she loves in this unfair world. She feels glad about that, glad she has stepped up, glad she can hear their voices, glad she can feel soft fingers stroking her hair and cupping her cheek.

"Emma, you're going to be all right," she hears Regina's low, wet voice. So far away. She's so far away.

Fluttering her lashes, Emma works hard to part them, to look into those beautiful dark eyes. She hears beeping devices and urgent voices as she struggles to remain conscious. Feels hands moving her, hurting her, and she cries out, the pain lancing through her.

"Emma, don't you dare leave me. You fight. Dammit, you have to fight," Regina says, her voice splintering. Her eyes shattering.

And it's okay. Not that she's hurt, but that they're not. It's okay because although she doesn't want to die, she would rather it be her than them. So she closes her eyes, allows the pain to take over and the blackness to spread. She feels the coldness pervade her and the blood rush through her and the pounding stomp on her—every part of her being.

Because she knows they're safe. They're safe, and she can die. Because she's nothing. Nothing.

And they're everything.

And just before the pain takes her, blackness cloaks her, life leaves her, she hears two incredible, unforgettable, life-changing words: "You matter."


	2. Chapter 1

**Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows. I hope you continue to enjoy.**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Before: June 4**

Sitting at her desk, typing away, Emma is surprised to hear her cell phone ring. It has Henry's ringtone, and he knows not to call while she is working unless it is urgent. Normally, he texts her once he gets home from school.

"Henry? What's wrong?" Emma asks in a soft voice, not wanting to attract attention. Regina is in her office, an intense look of concentration on her lovely face while she reviews a case file, and although she can take personal phone calls, Emma prefers to avoid them when anyone is close enough to hear.

"Mom. Ruby didn't show up," he says, apology in his voice. "I tried calling her, but she isn't picking up."

"Okay. Okay." Emma doesn't know what to do. It's the beginning of June. He has two more weeks of school before summer break. Although he has a key to their apartment, she does not want him there alone. "I'll come get you," she says. She'll have to take the rest of the day off. It's okay, though. He comes first. He is the most important person in her world.

"I can take the T to your office. It's only four stops."

"No. I don't want you taking the T by yourself," Emma says.

"Mom, I'm fourteen. I'm practically in high school," he grouses.

"Don't remind me!" Emma responds. "We'll talk about it later. I promise. For now, I'll come get you. Stay there." She hangs up and approaches her boss. Regina Mills, senior partner of Gold, Mills & Associates, is staring straight at her, head tilted, chocolate eyes alert.

"Problem?" she asks.

"My son. His babysitter didn't show up. I'm so sorry, but I'll have to leave early," Emma says.

"Of course you can take the rest of the day off. You can also bring him here, and we'll count your time retrieving him as a break," Regina offers.

"Really?" Emma asks. Seeing Regina's raised eyebrow, she adds, "Thank you. I'll be as quick as I can."

Regina nods. Emma leaves. Surprised. Grateful. She wouldn't categorize Regina as a hard-ass exactly, but she does not suffer fools gladly. Expects professionalism at all times. And how professional is it to have to run out on a personal errand outside of her lunch hour?

She wonders whether Regina even knew about Henry. Does she know how old he is? Does it matter? They'll be back within the hour, and she'll be able to get a bit more work done. Nodding, Emma picks up speed.

Once she retrieves Henry, they waste no time returning to the law firm. Before getting off the elevator, Emma says, "Henry, you can sit in the chair across from my desk and work on your assignments. No talking to me or anyone else, no wandering, and no videogames until you're finished. The good news is that we can pick up something to eat on the way home."

"Okay, Mom. Don't worry about me. Quiet as a mouse," he jokes with an endearing smile. His mop of dark hair reminds her that he needs a haircut. Maybe she'll do it tonight. He is taller than her now. A growth spurt during the winter months. Lanky, boyish, bookish, sweet. Her boy.

As soon as they are seated, she focuses on her work. Henry does as asked. It is quiet. Comfortable, reminding her of endless nights at the kitchen table when she studied for her paralegal degree as he finished his homework. Not so long ago, but in some ways a lifetime ago.

"Hello," she hears, and she looks up to see Regina focused on Henry, who has also looked up.

"Hi. I'm Henry," he says with a smile. Standing as he extends his hand, he shakes Regina's hand firmly, something Emma and Henry have worked on so that he does not have a limp-fish handshake. She has told him several times how important first impressions are. "Thank you for letting me hang out here," he adds as their hands drop.

Emma can see that Regina is impressed by his words. His actions. His smile. Emma smiles, so proud.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Henry. I am Regina Mills. You are welcome to hang out here anytime," she answers, her emphasis on the words "hang out" amusing to Emma. She doesn't remember Regina ever uttering slang.

"Thank you," Henry says as he sits down.

Emma watches Regina's eyes soften, and warmth fills her chest. Henry is the best son. So intelligent and compassionate. Clever and affectionate. He impresses people easily, never manipulating their resulting goodwill. Emma doesn't know how she got so lucky. She's so glad she didn't give him up. It was a hard road, raising him alone.

Once the workday ends, they say their goodbyes to Regina, still at her desk, still hard at work, and walk toward home, detouring to their favorite pizzeria on the way.

"I like her," Henry says as they gobble down their slices.

"Me, too," Emma says, her heart fluttering, her smile emerging.

She can see his teasing smile from a mile away, and she shoulder-bumps him.

"Is she single?" he asks.

"Henry," Emma says, a warning in her voice. He wants her to be happy. She knows that. And loves him all the more for it. "She's my boss." And really that should say it all. She needs the job, wants it. She worked hard for it.

He delivers one of his specialty looks: puppy-dog eyes and a hopeful smile. His brown eyes shine with just enough mischievousness to caution her. She needs to be clear.

"Henry, you're right. She's beautiful and intelligent, but she is also my employer. You know how hard I've worked to get into a firm. I like working there. It's only been two months, but I can see myself working there for a long time." She sighs. "I won't be able to work there, though, if I make a pass at her. Even a casual date invitation could get me sacked. Or on the off chance that she's interested, she'd be a fool not to consider the ramifications of becoming involved with her employee, someone in her division. And she's no fool. We are not equals at work, and if a romance went bad, sexual harassment could become an issue."

"You've thought about this," Henry says.

"Since the day we met," she admits. "So please drop it. The only relationship Regina and I can share while I work for her is a professional one. Besides, she's seeing that guy, Robin."

Scrunching up his face, Henry scoffs. She has mentioned him in passing. He's a personal injury lawyer, and in her opinion rather smarmy. His forest-boy outfits and hardboiled charm grate on Emma's nerves. Just last week he showed up with a bouquet of daisies and an apologetic smile. Daisies. Henry's not impressed. Neither is Emma. "Still?"

"Still," Emma confirms with a sigh.

Nodding, Henry snags another piece of pizza. "Have you heard from Ruby?"

"Yeah. Her grandmother was rushed to the hospital after she took a fall. She's sorry she didn't contact one of us. Honestly, I can't blame her. If something happened to you, I would drop everything, too. You are the most important person in my life, Henry. I love you."

"I love you, too," Henry says as he ducks his head.

She can tell he is uncomfortable. She blames it on his age. "How about I cut your hair tonight?" she asks.

"Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Mom."

"Sure thing."

After he finishes off his slice he asks, "So can we talk about my taking the T?"

Although she wants to shut down the conversation, she knows that is not the best way to handle her fears for his safety. Reluctantly, she nods.

"Since Ruby can't pick me up while her grandmother's in the hospital, how about I take the T right after school to the law firm, and I can study there? Regina said I'm welcome there, and I'll be on my best behavior. Promise."

Before dismissing his idea out of hand, Emma thinks about it. Really thinks about it. It is a good solution, a way to give him some independence, a better solution than his being alone in the apartment or having to arrange for him to be somewhere else.

"Okay. We'll try it," she says. At his triumphant smile she warns him, "Best behavior."

"Best behavior," he repeats seriously.

* * *

 **August 29**

Emma finishes up typing the motion and e-mails it to Regina for review. She receives a quick "thanks" by e-mail and smiles. She's worked for Regina for over four months, and she loves it. Loves learning more about the legal system, the practical aspects not taught in paralegal school.

Regina is amazing. Sometimes Emma is able to watch her in court, taking notes so that Regina can focus on what's happening without any distractions. She knows how to make the witness relaxed, the jury sympathetic, the judge attentive. Always respectful, sharp, quick. Emma knows she has failed to get rid of her attraction for the woman, but really what chance does she have?

Not that she is always warm and fuzzy. No, Regina can be quite ruthless. She knows just how to corner a person, using her words and intelligence and cunning and drive to get what she wants. And if she makes a witness cry or a heart break or a person betray another, well, that's all part of the job, an unfortunate yet necessary by-product of getting what she wants, what her client deserves. Her reputation, the queen of the courtroom, an evil one at that, is well-earned.

And it's damn sexy.

Gathering up her belongings, Emma logs off and rises. She can hardly believe that Henry starts high school next week. Where have the years gone? In just a couple of months he'll turn fifteen.

"Done for the day?" Regina asks, reading glasses perched on her nose.

This woman is alluring without trying.

"Yes. I'm picking Henry up from his friend's house. Are you staying for much longer?" Emma asks. She worries about her boss, the number of hours she works.

"Not much longer. Henry starts back to school next week, doesn't he?" Regina asks, leaning against the back of her chair, crossing her legs, showing some skin through the slit of her tight skirt.

"Sure does. Ninth grade. It's crazy," she says, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Of Henry's age. Of Regina's toned legs.

"I have a little something for him," she says, a hint of a blush emerging on her cheeks.

"Oh. You didn't have to," Emma says, stepping forward to receive it.

"It's nothing," Regina says it with a wave, her eyes negating her words. She opens a side drawer and retrieves a bag, handing it to Emma.

"Thank you, Regina. I'm sure he'll be thrilled." Emma wants so badly to look in the bag.

"You should look at it. Make sure it's okay," Regina says, and Emma has never seen her unsure before. It's different. Endearing.

The gift is in a black rectangular box. Looking up as she lifts the lid, Emma reacts to Regina's anxiousness with a reassuring smile. She can't imagine Henry not liking whatever he receives from her.

In the box is a pewter sports pendant of a basketball player about to dunk the ball in the hoop. Above the design are the words, "Guardian Angel," and under the player are the words, "Protect Me." Turning it over, she sees engraved, "Never give up on your dreams, Henry."

"Henry told me one time," Regina says softly as she shifts to lean on her forearms against the desk, "that you're his guardian angel. He said that you always make him feel safe, invincible, like the superheroes he reads about in those comic books. He's worried that once he's in high school, he won't be around enough to protect you, and now that he's getting older, he views it as his responsibility. I told him that you would never want to hold him back, that you are so proud of who he is and what he does. I thought this might help, symbolize how you are always with him while he's reaching for the sky. Remind him that you want him to live his life and fulfill his dreams."

Emma stares at the necklace, running her fingers over it as she processes what Regina has said.

"I, Emma," Regina says, a hint of pleading in her voice. "Did I overreach? Is this inappropriate?"

"No," Emma answers truthfully. She looks up, knowing that Regina will see the tears in her eyes. "It's so thoughtful. I knew you two hit it off, and I am truly happy about that. He'll love it."

The space between them vibrates, and the silence is full. The black cord it is attached to is long enough that he can tuck it under his shirt if he wishes. It is perfect, and Emma is touched by Regina's effort.

"He told you he wants to try out for basketball?" Emma asks.

"Yes. He's afraid he's too short," Regina answers.

"Yeah. He's fast, though, and he doesn't know how to give up on something once he sets his heart on it."

"Sounds like a Swan trait."

Looking up in surprise, Emma chuckles.

"Thank you, Regina. He will cherish this; I know it." Emma wants to hug Regina, do more than shoot a smile her way. "You know, we're eating out in the North End. Why don't you join us for dinner, and you can give this to him yourself?" Seeing the conflict on Regina's face, Emma continues, "You haven't seen him in a while, since before he left for camp in Maine, and he'd love to see you."

Emma realizes that Regina might have other plans, perhaps with Robin. "Unless you have other plans? It is Labor Day weekend, after all. Are you going away with Robin?" she asks, trying not to wince. It's not that he's a bad guy. He's just rather bland. Regina deserves better. She watches Regina closely, wondering if her question is too personal.

Just as Emma is about to backtrack, apologize for the questions, Regina says, "No. No plans. It didn't work out with Robin."

"Oh. Are you all right?" Emma asks. She doesn't feel bad about the breakup, not by a long shot, but she doesn't want Regina to be in pain.

"Well, I ended the relationship, so," Regina says with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's just me, but whenever my relationships have ended, not that I've had that many, but regardless of who broke it off, I always found myself grieving a bit. I would find myself dwelling on the good times, the things I liked about the person, the little things," Emma says. "I would question myself, wondering if I could have tried harder, done things differently."

"You could think of something for that Killian guy?" Regina teases with a smirk and twinkling eyes.

"Hey! I'll have you know that he taught me how to wear eyeliner the right way," Emma jokes, glad to hear Regina's chuckle.

"That's true, I suppose," Regina agrees amiably. "He was certainly metrosexual."

"No kidding. He knew the best places to get manicures," Emma jokes. "All right, then. You absolutely must go with us. It will get your mind off that, and Henry will love your company," Emma says.

"And you, Miss Swan?" Regina asks.

"And me," Emma says lightly after a pregnant pause, ignoring the formal address. She knows Regina is just teasing, a reminder of their first few months. She didn't start calling Emma by her first name until after the three-month trial period ended. So instead she grins, and when Regina nods her head in agreement, it broadens into a smile. This will be the first time they are doing something outside of the firm. Something personal. Emma hopes this will be the first time of many.

* * *

 **December 9**

Emma steps out of the elevator and shivers. It is wickedly cold, well below freezing, and she needed to take care of some errands during her lunch hour. As she rounds the corner, she unwraps her threadbare, and in Emma's mind totally useless, scarf from around her neck. Peering into Regina's office, she sees her on the phone and waves to let her know she's back. Shucking her red leather winter coat, which also serves as her spring and autumn coats, Emma removes her black knit beanie with the Bruins logo on it, patting down her unruly curls to control the flyaway hair.

Stiletto heels click across the office, and Emma smiles as she turns to greet Regina. "Do you need anything, Regina?" she asks.

"Yes. How are you doing on the Bartlett Answers to Interrogatories?" she asks as she leans her hip against Emma's desk and crosses her arms. Over the months they have eased into a comfortable camaraderie, and Regina is more relaxed around her. Emma is glad.

"Nearly done. I should be able to get the draft to you today," Emma answers as she wakes up her computer and logs on. Pulling up the requested document, Emma says, "I only have six more to answer." She feels Regina's body heat as she leans forward to look, her breath caressing Emma's cheek gently.

"Great. Thank you," Regina says, her lips brushing Emma's ear.

Biting down on a gasp, Emma barely stops herself from turning her face a few inches so that their lips can meet. She feels gentle fingers gliding through her hair, and when she dares to move, she watches Regina straighten up.

"You're hair has static electricity," Regina says.

"Oh. Thanks," Emma says, loving the shyness overtaking the normally confident attorney.

"The company holiday party is next week," Regina says. "I haven't received your RSVP," she teases.

"Yeah," Emma says, her heart sinking as she looks away. "I won't be able to attend. Henry," she says glumly. Ruby can't babysit, and even if she could, the budget is tight. Emma has just finished her Christmas shopping, and she is stretching to make ends meet. It sucks because she wants so badly to go. It's at Regina's home, and she's never been there. She is dying to see the house, to find out more, to understand more, about Regina.

They have spent some time together over the last few months, but always with Henry. Emma is grateful for their time together, hopeful that they are forging a personal relationship, something that transcends their work relationship, but she still knows so little about the woman.

"Hmm. Well, bring him. We can set him up in the den. He's spent enough hours here that I know he can keep himself occupied. And I'll make sure we have some food he will enjoy," Regina says. "He can read, watch a movie, play games on my tablet. I'm sure he'll be fine, and you'll be able to attend."

Why Regina is working so hard to solve Emma's problem is unfathomable. Nevertheless, Emma is ecstatic. She wants to go. And now she can. Smiling brightly, Emma says, "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Regina."

"You're welcome."

They gaze at each other a little longer than warranted before Emma breaks their connection. She's having problems not falling into Regina's eyes every time their gazes intersect lately. She's afraid Regina has guessed her feelings, afraid of what that might mean. She needs her job. More importantly, she needs Regina in her life. If Regina becomes uncomfortable around her or deems it best that they no longer work together, Emma doesn't know what she'll do. Thankfully, Regina seems at ease around her.

Regina squeezes her shoulder before turning away. Another development. Regina touches her more. Always small, casual acts. Certainly nothing to alarm anyone. Nothing to indicate them to be more than friendly gestures. Yet, her fingers burn Emma. Mark her.

Emma turns back to her computer and promptly e-mails her RSVP, humming a Christmas tune under her breath. She cannot wait to get a look at Regina's home, her personal space, her brownstone on Beacon Hill.

And Henry will be psyched.


	3. Chapter 2

**Ah, time for the company holiday party. An extra long chapter for you. I hope you enjoy it. (And feel free to let me know.)**

 **~Jazzy**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 **December 17**

Walking up the steps to Regina's home, Emma tries to control her nerves. Her colleagues are in there. This is a work-related function. It will probably be boring. She'll talk to people she hardly knows, eat what is sure to be delicious food, and leave before she makes a fool of herself. She will make sure not to drink, not to watch Regina's every move, and not to declare her undying love.

Simple.

"You look pretty, Mom," Henry says, and Emma shoots him a grateful look. She is wearing a black slinky dress that showcases her toned body. Since she does not have enough money to join a gym, she exercises each night at home to keep fit.

"Thank you, honey. And you look very handsome," she says. He is dressed in a fir-green cable-knit sweater and black jeans. His hair is combed back for once, and he is wearing his Guardian Angel pendant. He wears it every day.

Pressing the doorbell to announce their arrival, Emma rubs her hands together and stomps her feet. She is cold. She exhales loudly, watching as a white plume of breath forms in front of her. When the heavy wooden door swings inward, a blast of sound greets them. Blinking, Emma smiles at Regina, who opens the iron security gate.

"Emma, Henry, welcome to my home," Regina says as she turns to the side so they can enter. Emma looks around the atrium, awed by the intricate detail in the ceilings, walls, and floor. Everything is ornate, intricate, complex. Just like the woman who lives here.

"Whoa," Henry mutters, and although Emma agrees wholeheartedly, she says nothing.

Diagonally from them stands a magnificent fir tree, white lights twinkling and matching ornaments hanging from the tree branches. The distinctive smells of fir, cinnamon, and pumpkin tease Emma's nose. "You have a gorgeous home, Regina," Emma says quietly. Looking to the right, she sees the parlor full of people. Many are milling about, talking, laughing, networking. Others are seated on various pieces of furniture littered throughout the large room.

"I thought Henry might be most comfortable in my den. It's this way," Regina says, extending her hand toward the staircase. They pass sturdy white columns and ascend the winding marble staircase, and Emma tries hard not to stare at Regina's flexing backside. And fails beautifully. Garland and gold bows interspersed with red ribbon wrap around the banister, warm and festive. A statue of Athena stands proudly in a small alcove halfway up the stairs, and several oil paintings are carefully arranged on the walls.

After reaching the top of the stairs, they turn to the right and enter the second room on the left. It is breathtaking. A grand walnut-paneled library, the room is furnished with overstuffed sofas and chairs set around a roaring fire. They look comfortable enough to fall asleep on. Floor to ceiling bookcases are filled with leather-bound books, and the ceiling has wooden panels with eye-catching carvings. The drapes are light-colored, as is the furniture, and they offset the dark colors of the ceiling, walls, and desk beautifully.

Emma can easily imagine spending hours in this setting, working, relaxing, dreaming, living. She can smell Regina's perfume in the room, and she smiles softly. Turning toward Regina, their eyes connect, and something intimate passes between them. "Beautiful," Emma murmurs.

She realizes that she is talking about Regina as much as the room. Regina is dressed in a fitted maroon velvet dress with a plunging neckline. Emma has a hard time keeping her eyes from wandering over Regina's perfect figure and tantalizing cleavage.

It doesn't take long to get Henry settled, and although she wants to explore the rest of Regina's home, Emma does not dare ask for a tour. Instead, she follows Regina down the stairs, the sway of her hips keeping Emma's attention.

"The bar is straight ahead," Regina says as they walk into the parlor, "and food will be served in about twenty minutes."

Recognizing a dismissal when she hears it, Emma says, "Great. Thanks." A hand on her arm stops her momentarily.

"I'll catch up with you later," Regina says, her tone apologetic.

Feeling her spirits lift, Emma grins. "Sounds good."

She walks through the crowd slowly, exchanging pleasantries with several coworkers. Once at the bar, she asks for a glass of ginger ale. Many will assume she is drinking alcohol, and that's fine with her.

The parlor is connected to a large formal ballroom. _Who has that?_ Emma shakes her head. Regina is so unreachable in every way. It's not that Emma feels unworthy. Not really. And if it were just a matter of money, she could probably shake off her feelings of inadequacy. But Regina is the whole package, the ideal woman. She doesn't have a chance of capturing this woman's heart.

"Emma! How are you?" a woman chirps. Emma turns and recognizes Mary Margaret, a sweet woman who works in the estate planning division. Boring work as far as Emma is concerned, but she can see how Mary Margaret would be successful working with people while they go through the process of creating wills and trusts and all the other documents needed to protect a family and its legacy. Mary Margaret has long brunette hair, much longer than Regina's shoulder-length chestnut locks, and soft brown eyes in a slightly round face.

Leaning in, Emma hugs the woman. "I'm great. Ready for Christmas?"

"Oh, yes! David and I finished our shopping, and we are spending it with his parents in Rhode Island. We love it there."

"I've never been there. Maybe I'll have to take a road trip with the kid to visit the area this summer."

"Oh, let me know if you do! I can tell you all the great places to visit, and maybe David and I can even meet up with you," she says.

That actually doesn't sound too bad. Mary Margaret has always exuded a motherly energy, and Emma can't get enough of it. "That's a good idea. Once the weather gets warmer, we're there!"

"Hi, Emma," David says warmly as he joins them, wrapping an arm around his wife. "Going solo tonight?"

"I like to keep my options open," Emma says, feigning nonchalance.

"Ah, well your open option is staring at you right now," David says, a twinkle in his eye and laughter in his voice as he jerks his chin toward their right.

Turning her head slightly, her eyes connect with Regina's stare, and Emma promptly flushes.

"David!" Mary Margaret chastises him, hitting his arm. "Don't embarrass her."

"What?" he says while rubbing his arm. "I thought she'd want to know that the interest isn't one-sided."

 _I never should have confided in Mary Margaret._ Looking back over toward Regina, Emma sighs. She has moved. Before she can wonder where she is, though, her dulcet voice announces that the buffet is open.

"That's my cue," David says, taking Mary Margaret's hand. "Shall we?"

Emma follows them, planning to fill a plate for Henry and then get herself settled.

"Emma, tell me what you want, and I'll take care of it while you get Henry's plate," a voice says beside her.

Turning, Emma smiles. Regina is taking care of her. "Okay. Thanks." She looks at the display and rattles off less than what she would normally eat, not wanting to sound like too much of a glutton. Looking back at Regina, she notices the raised eyebrows immediately.

"What?"

"That's all you want, Emma? Really?"

"Um," Emma stalls. _How does she do that? How does she know me so well?_

"Emma, we've eaten together enough times for me to know that you are trying to be polite," Regina says softly.

"Well, the others have to eat, too," Emma jokes. She is proud of herself for making Regina chuckle.

"Right. I'll figure it out," Regina says and moves away, her hips swishing in that way which makes Emma salivate.

"Good job, Romeo!" David says, nudging her.

"Thanks," Emma says sarcastically. "I am so smooth, it's a wonder she didn't swoon at my feet."

"Don't sell yourself short, Emma. She's taking care of you. That's positive," Mary Margaret says, always supportive.

"True," Emma agrees, her spirits reviving.

After filling a plate with lasagna, meatballs, ham, vegetables, fresh Italian bread, and the proper condiments, Emma snags a tall glass of water and makes her way to the den.

"That smells so good," Henry says, his eyes widening comically when he sees the plate of food.

"I bet it tastes good, too," Emma says as she hands over the food. "Be careful. Don't get anything on the furniture or yourself. Are you doing okay? You're not too bored, are you?"

"I'm fine, Mom. Have fun, okay? And dance with her at least once," Henry says before digging in.

"Dance with her. Right," Emma mumbles as she makes her way to the dining room. She spots Regina immediately and notices that the seat next to her is empty. _She saved me a seat?_ Emma's heart rate triples. Regina looks up and smiles as Emma reaches her.

"Hi. Thanks, Regina," Emma says. She sits down, and she feels her eyes widen much as Henry's had a moment ago. Regina has loaded Emma's plate with a variety of food. And every single morsel is something Emma knows she will love. "Oh, my God," Emma mutters.

A husky chuckle catches her attention, and she turns to Regina with a grin. "I hope you enjoy it. I spent all day cooking."

"You cooked all this?" Emma asks, her voice squeaking. The spread looks incredible. Without waiting any longer, Emma scoops up a forkful of lasagna and inhales it as if it's her last meal. Groaning as the food hits her taste buds, Emma is certain she has never eaten anything so melt-in-your-mouth, ambrosia-for-the-gods, too-good-yet-perfect-for-Emma food in her entire life. It is heavenly. Orgasmic.

After swallowing her first life-changing bite, she turns to Regina to tell her and pauses. Regina's fork is frozen halfway to her mouth, her lips parted, eyes dark, face flushed, staring at Emma as if she has just discovered the Holy Grail.

Swallowing thickly, Emma holds back, barely, from leaning in to click that tempting mouth closed and covering it with her own. "You, your cooking is exceptional. How did you learn to do it?" she asks, ignoring her libidinous urges, wanting to keep Regina's attention, loving the look in her eyes and how it makes her feel. Desirable. Powerful. Confident.

Nothing. Regina says nothing. She continues to stare at Emma as if she is a meal, a meal she wants to consume. "Regina? Are you all right?" Emma says, placing her hand on Regina's shoulder and squeezing.

"Y-yes. Sorry. I," Regina clears her throat and shakes her head. "I got lost in thought. My father was an accomplished cook, and he taught me."

"He was obviously an accomplished teacher, too," Emma says softly, picking up on the trace of melancholy underlying Regina's words. With another squeeze, Emma regretfully removes her hand and returns her attention to the food.

"Yes. This will be my first Christmas without him," Regina says softly. "Heart attack."

Emma watches deep sadness cross expressive brown eyes, staining them with her grief.

"It was so unexpected. He and my mother had just gotten divorced—oh, it was so nasty, Emma—and then mere months later, he died."

Emma wants to hug Regina, remove the hurt so obviously present. All she can do, though, is grab her hand and squeeze it before reluctantly releasing it. "I'm so sorry, Regina. I am sure you miss him greatly."

"Mmhmm," Regina agrees. This time she takes Emma's hand and squeezes it. "Thank you."

Emma ignores how her face heats up and her body hums. All this handholding is having a marked effect on her equilibrium.

"My father's name is Henry," Regina says quietly, and it takes a moment for Emma to process the words before she grins brightly.

"Great name."

"Yes. It is," Regina agrees, her lips curving up.

They eat in silence for a few minutes before another thought strikes Emma. "What are your plans for Christmas?"

"I'll be hosting the family dinner here for my mother, my two sisters, and their families," Regina says.

Emma watches Regina sip her wine, understanding what she has not said. For whatever reason, her mother is no longer the matriarch of the family, and Regina has taken up the mantle.

"And do you and your mother get along?" Emma asks, hesitant to pry but unable to ignore the obvious signs of her unhappiness.

"We are working on it. I was very angry with her for what she did to my father. For the divorce." Regina's laugh is bitter. "They split up years ago, but I still hate her for the hell she put him through. He refused to fight back. Said he'd always love her, even though she cheated on him with some younger, richer, slimy guy. That's why I refuse to handle divorce cases. They cause so much pain. And I probably still wouldn't be talking to my mother if my father hadn't died."

Emma raises her eyebrows. If it were her, she doubts she'd give her mother another chance, not with the knowledge that she had betrayed her father in that way. It's all academic, of course, since she can never really understand what any of this feels like.

"I might have continued to ignore my dear mother's entreaties that we talk if not for my sisters." Her lips twist even as she shakes her head. "They are such busybodies. But they love me and my mother, and they want us all to spend Christmas together. I was able to get out of Thanksgiving dinner thanks to that case I just finished, but this time, I couldn't avoid making a decision. So, one large, uncomfortable Christmas dinner is what I have to look forward to."

"Ah. That sounds nice," Emma says. Seeing Regina's incredulous look, she hastens to add, "I mean, spending time with your family. Even if it's uncomfortable, at least you have a family. Are they, are they all local?"

After a contemplative stare, Regina answers. "Pretty much. Newton, Medford, and Winthrop. How about you?"

Emma's not sure what she's asking—how she's spending her Christmas or whether her family is local. It doesn't matter, though, because for once she doesn't mind opening up. At least not when it comes to Regina.

"Henry and I usually buy a tree on Christmas Eve and trim it. We have all these ornaments we've made over the years. And I sew popcorn garland, which takes forever but looks great," Emma says. She chews on a piece of bread, gathering her thoughts. "Our Christmas is pretty low-key. We open presents, make a big breakfast together, and watch some holiday movies. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's kinda lame."

A hand on Emma's bicep stops her from placing another bite of juicy ham in her mouth. "No, Emma. That doesn't sound lame at all. It sounds lovely and relaxing."

They smile at each other for a few moments before Emma clears her throat. "Yeah, well, we like it. It's just us, and every year we plan what we want to do."

With a cute look of confusion on her face, Regina says softly, "No relatives?"

"No. I was a foster kid, and I was bounced around so often that I didn't bother keeping in touch with anyone. I never did get adopted. I aged out of the system. Then I had Henry, and it's been just me and him. So, Henry, he's my only family." Emma looks away, feeling vulnerable. It's not like she's embarrassed. She isn't. It's just that she wants so much more for Henry.

"You are an amazing woman, Emma," Regina says, and Emma realizes that Regina's hand is still grasping her arm, her thumb rubbing in distracting, soothing circles.

"I don't think so," Emma says softly. She can feel herself becoming emotional, and it reminds her of why she never reveals her past to anyone.

"I respectfully disagree," Regina says quietly, leaning in so that their foreheads nearly touch. "You are a hard worker, you do everything you can for your son, and if you don't mind my saying, he is polite, intelligent, and kind—all attributes you have fostered. You are a wonderful mother, and you provide him with what is most important—a stable home and unconditional love. The fact that you never experienced either just reinforces how much you have overcome, how strong you are. You are special."

Blinking quickly, Emma tries to swallow back the emotions that are fighting to get out. This is not the time to lose it. She'll be mortified if anyone notices the tears brimming in her eyes. It's just that the holidays are so tough for her; the years of loneliness, the years she spent with no gifts, no love, no feeling of belonging—they trigger her. A soft finger wipes away a tear that has escaped.

"Emma," Regina whispers, concerned.

"I'm okay," she says quickly, ducking her head and wiping at her face roughly. She can't believe she's falling apart like this. "I'm sorry, Regina. I'm not usually like this," she practically whispers.

"Don't apologize, Emma," Regina says just as softly. "Please, tell me what I can do."

The distress in Regina's voice makes Emma feel worse. It's not like she can ask the woman to fall in love with her, kiss her, hug her—no, she can't ask for any of those things, even though that's what she longs for. Sniffing, Emma looks up through her eyelashes and tries to smile. "Regina, I'm fine. I promise. Let's just change the subject. Okay?"

Emma withstands Regina's discerning gaze for several seconds before she nods her head. "Then tell me what you got Henry for Christmas," she says.

That Emma can do.

After dinner the music is turned up and part of the ballroom is cleared of tables so that people can dance. Regina leaves to coordinate dessert and coffee, and Emma stands next to Mary Margaret and David. Mary Margaret bops to the beat, a smile on her face as Emma and David grin at how obviously she wants to dance. No one is on the dance floor, yet, and she is not the type to go on first.

"How can no one be dancing to this song?" Mary Margaret complains.

Chuckling, Emma says, "Just go on, then. Others are probably thinking the same thing."

"Come on; I'll go with you," David says, swallowing the last of his beer before handing the empty bottle to Emma. "Wish me luck," he whispers to Emma with a wink before grabbing his wife and heading for the floor.

With a grin, Emma places the bottle on a nearby table and watches as they dance to the beat. People start to filter onto the dance floor, and Emma taps her foot in time with the music. Once the next song begins, Mary Margaret waves at Emma with a "join us" motion. Although self-conscious, Emma shrugs and joins them. She has always enjoyed music, and she's not bad at dancing. She likes to try new moves, and she indulges by twisting her body, twirling around. She laughs when Mary Margaret and David cheer her on.

Twirling again, she finds herself peering into amused dark eyes. Smiling, Emma keeps dancing, backing up a bit so that Regina has space to join her. They dance through the rest of the song, Emma breaking out some of her best moves, hoping Regina is watching. She is watching Regina's body as it undulates to the beat—that's for damn sure.

The song ends, and a slow dance begins. Emma looks at Regina uncertainly, ready to exit the dance floor, but Regina simply moves in and gathers Emma into her arms. Emma smiles shyly, overwhelmed by the soft curves under her fingers. Regina's hands are linked loosely around her neck, and when their eyes meet, she is surprised by how intense Regina's stare is.

After a few moments of gazing into each other's eyes, having a conversation that Emma is afraid to misinterpret, Regina says, "I've noticed that you've nursed the same drink all night. Non-alcoholic, I presume."

"Yeah. Since we do have to make our way home at some point, I don't want to drink," Emma says.

"Or you could stay here."

"That's, that's very tempting," Emma says, pulling Regina a bit closer. _Am I romanticizing this when she is just being a friend?_

"That or me?" Regina whispers into her ear, making Emma shiver.

"I think you know the answer to that," Emma says, turning so that their breath mingles. She's not sure what to think. Is Regina offering what she dreams about or merely being a good hostess? Misinterpreting this could make things between them extremely uncomfortable.

"Mmhmm, I do, but I wonder whether you know how I feel." Fingers gently comb through her unruly blonde curls, distracting her. "Emma, your feelings are not one-sided."

"I, um, I really love my job," Emma says nervously. "I need it to provide for Henry."

"And I love working with you. But I heard that a paralegal position in Gold's division will be opening up at the beginning of the year. It's yours if you want it," Regina says, her eyes promising so much more.

Another shiver makes its way up Emma's spine as she realizes what Regina is saying, what she's offering.

"Are you sure, Regina?" Emma asks breathlessly.

"Yes, so if you aren't, you'd better think about it before you give me your answer," Regina says, her eyes serious.

"I'm sure. I'll move over to Gold's division," Emma says.

The smile she receives knocks the breath from her. "God, you're so beautiful," Emma murmurs, her eyes widening as she realizes what she's said. But Regina's smile widens and brightens, and she is so gorgeous that Emma doesn't mind how vulnerable she feels. Regina knows how she feels and is making arrangements so they can explore their feelings.

"You make me happy, Emma," Regina says softly. "I've never felt so excited to get to work each day," she says with a chuckle. "But I selfishly want more. So much more."

"Me, too," Emma says.

Regina smiles at her sensually, and Emma wonders how she is still standing upright. She's never seen that smile before, never seen that look in her eyes or felt those magical fingers at the nape of her neck, making her tremble with each caress. She is in so over her head.

"Will you stay over tonight?" Regina asks hopefully.

Emma wants to say yes so badly. She really does. "No, but I hope you'll extend the offer again soon. Very soon," Emma says regretfully.

Nodding, Regina says, "We'll plan it. Not too long from now, Emma."

"Not too long," Emma repeats.

The song ends, and they move to the side of the dance floor, standing close to each other. People begin approaching in an informal line, saying their goodbyes to Regina, thanking her for opening her home to them. Emma starts to inch away, wanting to give her privacy, but Regina casually winds her arm around her waist, effectively keeping her in place. Emma doesn't mind.

When Mary Margaret and David join them, David wiggles his eyebrows at Emma, making her laugh. "Cut it out, you nerd," Emma grouses.

Mary Margaret leans in and whispers excitedly, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"God, I hope so," Emma whispers back. "Otherwise I'm going to die of a broken heart."

"No one will be dying today," Regina whispers at them both, causing them to pull back quickly and laugh. Regina shoots a teasing smile at Emma, and she falls in love even more.

They move to a table and sit down, chatting about anything that comes to mind. It turns out that Mary Margaret knows everything about everyone at the firm. The entire time, Regina holds Emma's hand in her lap, stroking it with her thumb as they sneak looks at each other. Emma is ecstatic.

Attorney Gold strolls up to the table, his wife's hand securely tucked into the crook of his elbow. "Emma, have you met Afanc Gold and his wife, Belle?"

"No. It's nice to meet you both," Emma says, nodding at them and smiling politely.

"Ah. This is your paralegal?" Gold asks, a gleam in his eye.

"Not for much longer," Regina answers with a smug look. Her eyes rest on Emma for a moment, her smile softening.

"Very good," Gold says. He turns to Emma. "I shall see you on January second. Enjoy your holidays." Turning back to Regina, he says, "An excellent party, as always. The food was scrumptious, unfortunately," he says while patting his flat stomach.

"Oh, stop that, you fool," Belle chastises him before delivering a kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, all," Gold says genteelly, and they move away with a wave.

"As much as I hate to say it, I should probably get Henry and leave soon," Emma says. Regina grimaces but rises with her.

"Oh, we're going, too. Emma, we can drop you and Henry off on our way," Mary Margaret says.

"You don't mind?" Emma asks.

"Not at all. It's cold out. And David can go heat up the car."

"Jeez, thanks," David grouses good-naturedly. "Regina, this was an excellent party. Have a good weekend."

Regina nods.

"I'll wait for you and Henry near the door," Mary Margaret says. She leans in to whisper, "And then you can tell me what Gold meant." Stepping away, she says more loudly, "Take your time," and follows her husband.

"Shall we?" Regina says with a sigh.

Emma nods, sad that they are leaving, second-guessing her decision.

They ascend the stairs and find Henry napping on the couch. As Emma goes to step into the room, Regina blocks her way with a hand across the entryway. Tilting her head in question, Emma follows Regina's eyes upward and spots the sprig of mistletoe. Smiling slowly as heat rolls through her, Emma turns toward Regina and frames her cheeks with her hands as she leans in to capture plump blood-red lips.

Emma brushes her lips slowly against impossibly soft ones, taking her time to taste and memorize. She brushes them again, arousal building at how perfect Regina feels. After a third slow brush, she hears Regina growl and takes that as her cue to press their lips together more firmly. She moves a hand to the back of Regina's head, sifting her fingers through silky locks as she nibbles on Regina's lower lip, and Emma swallows the resulting moan, opening her mouth to welcome Regina's tongue. Regina's hands pulls her closer, and their mouths fuse together as their tongues wrestle.

 _I'm gonna pass out. I just know it. She feels incredible. Tastes heavenly. Wine, chocolate, and mint. God, I'm lost._ Emma whimpers into the kiss, continuing to explore every inch of Regina's addictive mouth.

After several minutes, the kisses slow down. With one more taste of Regina's mouth, Emma withdraws, resting her forehead against Regina's as she catches her breath.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Regina whispers. "It was worth the wait." She pulls back so that their eyes can meet. "You are worth the wait, Emma Swan."

"I don't know how I got so lucky as to capture your attention. I've always felt worthless. Like I didn't matter to anyone. Then Henry came along, and that helped. But still..." Emma shrugs.

"Well, you have me, and I'm not letting you go," Regina says. "It'll be hard enough to let you leave tonight."

They smile softly at each other, embracing tightly before they enter the room.

"Hey, kid," Emma says as she shakes his shoulder. "It's time to go." She watches him sit up while rubbing his eyes. Times like this remind her of when he was a little boy.

"Okay. I'm up." He sees Regina and smiles brightly. "That food was awesome."

"I make wonderful breakfasts, too," Regina says as she sits on the arm of the couch and rubs Emma's back.

Emma looks at her, sees the promise in her eyes, and wants to change her answer. Stay over. Things are going fast, though, and she really wants to plan for that eventuality. She wants it to be special. Regina is worth it.

"I have no doubt about that," Emma says, smiling. She rises. "Ready, kid? Mary Margaret and David are giving us a ride home."

"Cool. Yeah. I'm good," he answers as he gathers his belongings.

He leads the way out of the room, and Emma looks up at the mistletoe as they exit. Looking over at Regina, she notices her smirk and raised eyebrow. Yeah, it really happened. They really made out under the mistletoe.

They retrieve their outerwear, layering up before heading for the door, and others call out to Regina, obviously ready to leave and wanting to say goodbye. Regina holds up a finger toward them, signifying she'll be just a minute and turns to Mary Margaret, Emma, and Henry.

"Thanks for a great party," Mary Margaret says, stepping forward to deliver a quick hug.

Henry sticks out a hand to shake Regina's hand, but she merely chuckles and pulls him in for a hug, whispering something that makes him smile and the tips of his ears redden.

Emma steps forward once he is released and hugs her. "I'll be dreaming of that kiss tonight."

"As will I," Regina whispers back. "And you do matter, Emma. You matter to me."

As they pull back, Emma sees how serious Regina is. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Emma nods. Smiles. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams," Regina says with a smile.

Emma knows she will.


	4. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the comments, follows, and favorites! I hope you continue to enjoy. Feel free to let me know.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **After**

 **December 23**

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Regina demands as soon as Emma opens her eyes. She stands with her hands balled into fists, and Emma wonders who she's talking to. Blinking several times, she rolls her head around slowly to see if anyone else is in the room, not considering that she needs only move her eyes instead of her head. A hospital room. She's in a hospital. _Hmm. Well, at least I'm still alive._ She's having trouble connecting the dots, though. Like, why is Regina glaring at her? And is she even talking to her?

With no one else in the room, Emma deduces that Regina must be directing her ire at her. God, she hasn't heard such a tone of voice directed her way since that time a month into working for her when she forgot to record a court date change in the calendar. Regina had returned from court and skewered her with a glower that made Emma sink into her chair, looking for a hiding spot. And then the verbal evisceration came. Emma mentally shudders. She never made that mistake again.

She shakes her head as she stares at Regina, wondering whether she missed part of the conversation. She feels like every thought, every motion she makes is couched in sand—soft, suffocating, shifting sand.

Emma can see that Regina is shaking, her eyes flashing, and she is so attractive, so passionate, that Emma wants nothing more than to pull her into her arms and hold her tightly. She feels sluggish, though, and heavy. No doubt due to the drugs that are hooked up to her arm. She can see the dried tears on Regina's face, her eyes red and swollen. It confounds Emma that Regina is so upset with her.

"If that's your way of saying thank you, I'd rather you act ungrateful," Emma jokes weakly.

"Thank you? Thank you?! You nearly got yourself killed. Where would I be without you? Where would Henry be? How could we be thankful then?" Regina asks angrily.

"Because you're alive. You two are the most important people in my life. I will always try to protect you. And if that means losing my life, I give it willingly," Emma says slowly as she rubs her eyes. She is tired. Sore. Confused. And her left side is numb. Looking down she sees an ice pack over ribs. She shifts, and a sharp pain makes her yelp, "Shit!"

 _Why is she so upset with me?_ Emma opens her mouth to ask and is cut off.

"Emma, you're an idiot! You dying to save me is unacceptable. I need you in my life," Regina says. "I, I..." Losing steam quite suddenly, she slumps down on the hospital bed, next to Emma's waist, looking lost.

"What?" Emma asks, concerned. She stretches her hand out and is reassured by how Regina clasps it tightly. When Regina remains quiet, Emma says, "I know we've only shared one kiss, and I'm sorry if this is too much, but I love you. I love you with all my heart, and I can't live in a world without you in it. So you see, I had to do everything in my power to protect you. I had to."

"And I told you that your feelings are not one-sided," Regina says solemnly, eyes bright.

It takes Emma some time to understand, truly understand, what Regina is telling her. It seems impossible. _How can Regina love me? How can Regina feel the same depth of emotion for me when I am nothing, worthless, a kid no one wanted?_

Raising her eyes up, so full of questions and doubts and hope and love, Emma's breath catches in her throat. In Regina's eyes she sees the torment, the adoration, the hope, and Emma understands.

"I'm sorry I frightened you. I know how I'd feel if our roles were reversed." That's what Emma says in her head. It's what she means to say out loud. But her head is fuzzy, and she's so exhausted. And the pain is taking over. So what comes out is, "When I feel better, I'm gonna kiss you 'til you pass out."

A burst of laughter erupts from Regina, who covers her mouth. Tears stream down her cheeks, her long fingers trembling in front of her parted lips, and Emma wants to pull her in, hold her, comfort her, love her. Instead she squeezes the hand in hers and murmurs, "It's okay. I'm okay."

They sit in silence, allowing themselves the time to accept what has occurred and the comfort of knowing they are together now.

"Are you in much pain?" Regina asks softly, her eyes bouncing all over Emma, a crease marring her forehead.

"Yeah. What's wrong with me? Did the doctor tell you? Where's Henry? And what time is it?" Emma has a terrible thought. "I didn't miss Christmas, did I?" She doesn't think she's been out of it for that long, but everything's so hazy that she's unsure.

"Henry's with Mary Margaret and David, getting some food. It's around nine at night on Friday. You have not missed Christmas." Regina runs her hand over Emma's cheek, a small smile on her face. "The doctor told me what's wrong with you, which reminds me: when did you have me named as your healthcare proxy? That's something you normally tell a person," Regina says.

"Oh, um, yeah. I'm sorry, Regina. I was talking to Mary Margaret last week about the holidays, and she said it's a good idea to have my affairs in order since I am a single mom and everything. She drew up the paperwork, and I named you on everything: executor of the will, Henry's guardian, power of attorney, healthcare proxy, and the personal representative for the HIPAA release. I was going to tell you today. I knew that if anything happened to me, you'd take care of Henry. And me." She stops when she sees Regina's eyes tearing up. "I'm sorry, Regina. I'll change them once I'm out of here."

"No, no. You misunderstand. I'm honored that you trust me to such an extent," Regina says, wiping her eyes. "Although if I had known, I wouldn't have masqueraded as your wife."

"Wh-what?"

Regina straightens up, tossing her hair back and puffing out her chest in an extremely confident, attractive don't-fuck-with-me kind of way and glares at Emma. "I needed to know how badly hurt you are."

Deciding not to challenge her, and in truth loving Regina's arrogance, Emma blinks slowly several times, latching on to Regina's defiant stare. _Nope, not worth worrying about._ "So, um, how bad am I?" Emma asks after a pregnant pause. She feels the dull pounding in the back of her head, but she hasn't really tried to move around, afraid she might hurt herself. Regina leans forward to deliver a sweet kiss before sitting back with a frown. And if that was a sigh of relief she heard, Emma's not so drugged up as to call attention to it.

"Two fractured ribs on your left side, abrasions and contusions on your knees, shoulders, and arms. When you tackled him, he shot at you and missed. He hit the glass panels surrounding my door, and in the scuffle you were cut by some of the glass shards. Those will probably hurt for a bit, particularly the ones on your shoulder and calf. You needed stitches for those." Regina stops, her clinical voice falling away as she continues. "You are very lucky to be alive. What you did was extremely brave. And stupid."

Emma nods. She is lucky. Gazing into Regina's eyes, she can see how upset she is. She inhales deeply and coughs. Pain slices through her, and she places a hand over her ribs, trying to stop her body from shaking. Exhausted, Emma feels her eyes sliding closed. She just needs to rest a moment. Long fingers comb through her hair, and she smiles. _That feels good._

When Emma wakes up, she notices a few things. Fingers are combing through her hair, the same soothing way they were before she fell asleep. Voices are murmuring. Her body feels heavy. Her throat is dry. And besides her ribs, she feels niggling pain sparking from her leg, arm, and shoulder. She's a mess. Lying still, Emma listens as the voices become clearer. She hears Henry. Regina. Mary Margaret. David. And is that Attorney Gold? Finally ready, Emma opens her eyes.

"Who decided to have a party in here?" she says, trying her best to sound light-hearted. She doesn't think she pulls it off. She feels Regina's fingers stall for a moment before sifting through her hair once more. Emma sighs, the fingers doing their magic and making her feel loved.

"Well, look who decided to wake up," Regina says softly. Emma looks to her right to connect their eyes and smiles. Regina is sitting up near her head, shoes off and legs under her, leaning over as she continues to run her fingers through Emma's messy hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Sorry I fell asleep. I don't feel as if I have cotton between my ears anymore, so that's an improvement," Emma says.

"Mom?" Henry says from the foot of her bed, catching Emma's attention.

"Henry. Are you okay?" Emma asks, her anxiety ratcheting up as she takes in his red eyes and hunched body. "Come here." She extends arm, needing to comfort him. She takes his hand and squeezes it. "Talk to me."

"I'm okay. But, Mom, you could have died," he says plaintively, pain in his eyes.

"But I didn't. And neither did you or Regina. I'd do the same thing a thousand times if it meant keeping you safe." She hates that Henry is upset, but he needs to understand. He sniffles, barely holding it together. "I'm sorry I scared you, kid."

"I knew I'd be okay. I was wearing the pendant," he says. He's trembling, and she knows he's trying so hard to be strong, to not cry in front of anyone.

"Henry," Emma says, squeezing his hand as she catches his shadowed eyes, eyes weighed down by events he thought were made up in video games and movies because they are so preposterous, so unbelievable. But now he knows they can happen. Her heart aches, knowing that part of his innocence has been stripped away. "It's okay to be afraid. A brave person acts even when afraid. And it's okay to cry. It means that you feel deeply, and you should never be ashamed of that."

As if she's said the magic words, tears fall down his face, faster and faster. He burrows into the crook of her neck, and Emma holds him close as Regina wraps her arms around them both.

Once his sobs lessen to sniffles, Emma's attention turns to the rest of the people in the room. Her eyes connect briefly with Mary Margaret, David, and Gold.

"Well, well, looks like Sleeping Beauty has awakened," Gold says lightly as he steps forward.

Taking a deep breath as she squeezes the two people she loves most in all this world, Emma releases them and shoots a smile at her future boss. "So I have." Noticing how the light is shining through the windows, she says, "Is it Christmas Eve?"

Henry nods. She can tell he feels better, and she wonders whether he had let himself cry at all since the shooting.

"Oh, kid. I'm so sorry. If they let me out of here today, I'm sure we can still find a tree. You'll have to do most of the decorating, though." Emma frowns. She never wants to disappoint Henry. Over the years she's worked so hard to make Christmas special for him, particularly since she never had that.

Before he can say anything, the doctor enters the room. He quickly checks on her, telling her of her injuries and the expected recuperation time as he removes the IV. "We used sutures to close up the deeper lacerations on your shoulder and right calf. I'll want you back in seven days to remove them. Also, you fractured two ribs on your left side. Although this may sound counterintuitive, make sure to lie on your left side so that you can breathe more deeply. I'll prescribe some oral pain medication for you, and you are on bed rest for the week. It can take up to six weeks for the ribs to completely heal, but you can return to work in three weeks, provided you rest beforehand and avoid any strenuous activities. I'd like to keep you here for observation until tomorrow. We need to keep icing your ribs and making sure they don't shift and puncture any internal organs."

"I can't stay here on Christmas!" Emma says. "No. I won't stay. What kind of holiday is that for my son?" She goes to cross her arms and bites down viciously on her lower lip as pain shoots through her, and she tastes copper. She blinks several times, swallowing back the urge to throw up, sucking on her bleeding lip.

"I'll take responsibility for her and make sure she rests if she can be discharged today," Regina volunteers, her fingers on the nape of Emma's neck, rubbing little circles. The doctor doesn't seem happy, but he acquiesces with a brisk nod.

"I'll get the paperwork ready, including information on what to look for if the ribs shift, and the nurse will bring it in for signatures. It'll take about an hour," he says. After he leaves Regina takes up her previous position, this time wrapping an arm around Emma's shoulders. Emma allows her head to drop against Regina's side with a sigh. She feels safe and loved.

"Hey, champ. You're making all of us look like wimps, charging in and saving the day," David jokes, a hand on her knee.

Emma watches him glance at Regina and withdraw his hand quickly. Turning her head, she sees the glare on Regina's face melting as she looks down to meet Emma's gaze. Eyebrows shoot up, Emma recognizing what just happened. As if Regina has any reason to feel jealous. A small apologetic smile crosses Regina's face.

"I'm sure others would have acted the same way as I did. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time," Emma answers.

"Lucky," Regina sneers. Emma ignores it, knowing Regina had been afraid for her.

"Well, we are so glad you are okay," Mary Margaret says as she leans in to hug Emma.

"Thanks," Emma says, startled to find that people care about her. It's hard for her to believe.

"Of course you are on paid medical leave. Take the full six weeks, if needed. Rest, recover, and return when you're ready. Your job will be waiting for you," Gold says.

"That's awfully kind of you, Mr. Gold," Emma begins.

"None of that," he interrupts, wagging his finger. "If you hadn't taken on the role of hero, who knows how many more that madman would have hurt. As it is, we have five people recovering from bullet wounds. You are the bravest person I've ever met, and I will make sure everyone is aware of that fact." He leans in to deliver a kiss on her cheek. "Belle sends her best wishes for a speedy recovery." Leaning in more, he whispers, "I'm sure Regina will be thrilled to help you with that."

As he pulls back, Emma notes the twinkle in his eyes and his crocodile grin. She doesn't know how to answer. "Thank you," is what she settles on. He nods and takes his leave.

"Well, we'll let you get some rest. Please let me know if you need anything, anything at all," Mary Margaret says. "And Merry Christmas, to all three of you. At least you'll be together."

"See you later, Savior," David teases, nodding at Regina and clapping his hand on Henry's shoulder before leaving.

A silence falls on them once the others have left. It is comforting to Emma. She feels horrible for ruining Regina's Christmas, though. "Regina, you don't have to take care of me. I know you need to get ready for tomorrow's dinner, and all I need to do is rest."

"Emma, I want to. You and Henry don't need to be by yourselves. I have plenty of room, and you get the benefit of eating the feast I'll be preparing," Regina says.

Still uncertain, not wanting to impose, Emma wrestles with whether to accept Regina's offer.

"Mom, how can you say no to her cooking? Food's your greatest weakness," Henry says. "Besides, I'd feel better knowing someone will be helping us over the next few days." Henry is pulling out all the stops, puppy-dog eyes at their widest.

Sighing, Emma knows she will give in. It's not a hardship, after all. She wants to spend time with Regina. On the other hand, she thought her next time over at Regina's brownstone would be after a date or as the result of a more romantic, sensual offer. She doesn't want to be a burden.

"Emma, please let me do this. It's not just for you. I need to be able to see with my own eyes that you're okay. Safe. Recovering. It will give me peace of mind. And I want to spend the holidays with you and Henry. I'm not one to normally open my house to others, so please know that no one could compel me to do it if I were opposed."

Emma thinks about what Regina is offering, and her heart warms. She's tempted to say something corny like, "You had me at hello," but she doubts Regina will be amused. She might not even have seen the movie. Instead, she settles with nodding. "Thank you, Regina. We'll have to arrange to get the Christmas presents from my apartment." Remembering Regina's present, Emma asks Henry, "Do you have my purse?" She can see that he understands what she's really asking.

"Yup. Nice and safe," he grins. She grins back.

"I can go to your apartment with Henry now and get the presents and some clothes for you," Regina volunteers. "Is there anything else you want from there? A stuffed bear? Fuzzy socks?"

She knows Regina is just playing with her, and it makes Emma smile. "No, no. If I need to cuddle, I'll just call for you." They smile widely at each other, and Emma loves the fact that they have revealed their feelings for each other and have the privilege of expressing them.

"We'll grab some food on the way back so you won't be subjected to hospital food," Regina says. She leans in, and Emma happily accepts the chaste kiss Regina delivers before she moves to retrieve her coat and purse. "The police will probably be by soon to take your statement. I know they've been interviewing people yesterday and today," Regina tells Emma.

"Okay. Hopefully they'll come sooner rather than later so I can get that over with," Emma says, sighing. She is not looking forward to reliving yesterday's events.

"Do you want me to stay?" Regina asks with concern.

"No. I'll be fine," Emma says. Seeing Regina's uncertainty, she adds, "I promise."

As they move toward the door, Henry says, "I didn't think the hospital food was that bad." He shrugs and looks slyly at Emma as he continues. "Of course, I'm used to my mom's cooking."

Guffawing, Emma ends up coughing and waving them away as they turn toward her. "Oh, jeez. That hurts. On so many levels. Get going, you two, so that you can get back here quicker." Once they leave, Emma melts into the bed. Although she won't admit it to anyone, too stubborn to reveal any weaknesses, she is worn out from talking with everyone.

She closes her eyes, wanting to rest while it is quiet, and falls into a light sleep. Sometime later, lethargic and achy, she hears the door open. It takes a moment to focus on the two people standing by the door.

"We're sorry to intrude. I'm Officer Limner, and this is Detective Oliver. Is now a good time to take your statement about what happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, sure," Emma answers, struggling to wake up. "Go ahead and ask your questions. I'm ready." She notices that Officer Limner is a middle-aged, slim man with a crew cut and chiseled features while Detective Oliver is a short, stout man with a receding hairline and casual demeanor.

"So, Ms. Swan, we've spoken to people at your firm, including Attorney Mills, and we have a good idea of what happened. Please just tell us what you saw and heard yesterday and how you reacted," Detective Oliver directs.

"Right. I was leaving the restroom when I heard screaming and gunshots. I saw Sebastian Jefferson heading toward Regina's office. I ran down a parallel hallway, pulled my son, who was spending time at the office while on winter break, into Regina's office, and told them to hide under Regina's desk. I turned off the lights, closed the door, and sat down just as he reached me. He demanded to know where Regina was, and I stalled him, offered to help him. He had that rifle in my face, and I decided to tackle him before he shot me and went into Regina's office. I aimed for his waist, and we bounced. I held on and pulled the rifle out of his hands, hitting him on the chin with the butt to knock him out. I was in a lot of pain, and I passed out just after help arrived."

"All right. What exactly did he say once he reached you?" Officer Limner asks.

Struggling to recall all the details, Emma repeats their brief conversation as precisely as possible.

"Okay. Anything else you think will help?" the detective asks.

"His case ended last week. Regina's been trying to find some legal grounds to appeal the decision. It was a pro bono case," Emma says.

"Yes. Attorney Mills mentioned that when we spoke to her last night. Here's my card. If you think of anything else, please feel free to contact me," the detective says.

"Thanks. Um, is he in jail now?" Emma asks, a chill making its way down her spine.

"Yes. He was booked last night and will spend the weekend in jail before he's arraigned on Monday. We'll recommend that he not be released on bail since he is a danger to the public. He'll be charged with attempted murder, several counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, use and possession of weapons, threats, and whatever else we can throw in there so that he remains locked up," Officer Limner says.

Feeling better, Emma thanks them. Once they leave, she exhales loudly. She remembers the doctor's advice to breathe deeply every so often, even though it will hurt her ribs. She breathes in, holds it, and breathes out. Four more times she repeats the process, gritting her teeth at how sore her ribs are. She adjusts the bed so she is sitting up more, and noticing her cell phone on the side table, twists to pick it up. "Mother-fucker cock-sucker!" she shouts as the pain overwhelms her. Taking several shallow breaths, she keeps her eyes screwed shut and her hand over her aching ribs for several minutes. She's just glad she didn't have an audience for that stupid move.

Regina and Henry's arrival take her focus off her abused body, as does the food they carry with them. "We got your favorite," Henry crows.

"Great. Thanks. I didn't realize how hungry I am," Emma says. The cell phone she worked so hard to get is resting next to her waist. She can look at it later. Which reminds her, "Did you get my cell phone charger?"

"Yup. You're all set. We even brought the laptop," Henry says, placing the food on a rolling table. The smell is mouth-watering.

She seeks out Regina's eyes and smiles, relieved when she receives a sweet grin in return. Regina moves over to her and bends to deliver a kiss on her cheek. Emma can't help but pout. She wants to taste Regina's lips. Or maybe not. She hasn't even used the restroom since right before the attack occurred. She probably looks a mess. And her breath must reek.

"Here you go," Henry says as he guides the table across Emma's lap and pulls up a chair. Regina perches on the bed on the other side of the table so that she can use it, too. It's intimate and homey, eating this way with Henry and Regina, which is a minor miracle since they are in a hospital room on Christmas Eve. Her eyes reach Regina's, and she sees those rich brown eyes soften. It's comforting.

After they finish eating, Emma, with some help getting out of bed, hobbles to the bathroom. Her calf is hurting like a bitch, and each step reminds her that she needs to move slowly and carefully so as to avoid jostling her ribs. She insists she can take care of herself once in the bathroom. The alternative is mortifying. She doesn't want Regina to see her in such a compromised position. Emma knows it's her pride talking, but she wants Regina's first time seeing her without her pants on to be when they are about to make love.

For the first time she realizes that she's wearing scrubs. It's a good thing she's leaving the hospital today. These clothes aren't that comfortable or warm. She'll be glad to put some flannel pants and a sweatshirt on. Untying the drawstring, Emma allows the pants and her panties to pool around her ankles. Now for the hard part. She grasps the hand bars on either side of the toilet and slowly lowers herself, groaning softly as her abused ribs complain. Once seated, she closes her eyes, just breathing in and out. Her eyes spot the stitches on her calf. Blood and iodine cover the area. Well, there's no way she can wash that off right now.

Once she finishes her business, she nearly passes out from wiping herself. _This is ridiculous._ Biting back a groan, she gathers her pants and panties and raises them to her upper thighs before rising from the toilet seat, keeping her torso as straight as possible. Once standing, she turns and realizes that she'll have to bend to flush the toilet. She looks at the door, tempted to call Regina in to help. Shaking her head, she leans forward and flushes, moaning as pain shoots through her.

"You okay in there?" Emma hears Regina's worried tone of voice and grimaces.

"Yeah. Still alive," she jokes. Hearing the loud silence, she realizes what a poor joke that is given the circumstances. "I'll be out in a minute."

She pivots and moves in front of the sink, viewing her face critically. Pale. Dark circles under her eyes. Chapped lips. Matted hair. Smeared eye makeup. She's quite a fright. She grabs some tissues from the sink and wets them, quickly washing her face clean. A brush is on the side, as well as a new toothbrush and toothpaste. Emma uses them all. She still looks like she's been through a battle, but she is cleaner. It will have to do.

Before leaving the bathroom, she lifts her shirt to look at her ribs. Deep bruising is settling in, and the area is still swollen. She'll be sure to ice the area more. With a sigh, Emma decides that this is the best she's going to look today. Opening the door, she meets concerned eyes. Emma smiles. At least she tries. Regina must read something in her face, though, as she is over in a flash, wrapping her arm around Emma and guiding her back to bed.

"You should have asked for help," Regina chastises.

"I'm pretty sure you didn't sign up for wiping my ass," Emma mutters, angry with how her body has betrayed her. She looks around to make sure Henry hasn't heard her outburst. He's listening to his iPod, oblivious to everything around him.

"Emma," Regina whispers, her voice breaking. She doesn't say anything else until Emma is back in bed with the ice pack on her ribs. "I would never even think about that. The bending must be torturous. I'm so sorry."

"Please don't apologize," Emma says, regretting that she let her frustration get the better of her. Her outburst was immature. "I'm sorry for acting like a spoiled child. I've never learned to deal with feeling sick or helpless or in pain. I'm a horrible patient. And this isn't how I want you to see me."

A hand settles over hers, and Emma feels her frustration cresting, tears forming. "Emma. Don't be so hard on yourself. Your body needs to heal. Give yourself some time. Let me take care of you."

It's hard to believe that Regina cares about her. Loves her. That she nearly lost the opportunity to be with her. And now she has to wait weeks before she can explore Regina's body, worship it as she has dreamed all these months.

"I'm not going anywhere, Emma," Regina says softly.

Their eyes connect, and the promise in Regina's eyes makes her breathless. Feeling better, Emma smiles. She feels Regina squeeze her hand before she lets go and crosses to her purse. Emma watches her retrieve a pad of paper and pen, her forehead crinkling in that adorable way that tells Emma she's thinking as she jots down words. Emma's feeling pretty worn out, and she knows that traveling to Regina's home is going to take a lot of energy. Closing her eyes, she visualizes warm brown eyes and a sparkling smile.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **December 24**

"Are you sure, Regina? I don't want to kick you out of your own room," Emma says. She stands in the beautiful bedroom, taking in the king-sized bed with navy silk sheets and a matching comforter. The walls are painted a cream color, the hardwood floors partially covered with a large, intricately designed rug. Near the windows are some upright cushioned chairs and a small coffee table with several magazines spread across them. The art on the walls include photographs of castles and crowded city streets and crashing waves against a lighthouse in the middle of a storm and the sun shining on snow newly fallen on the Boston brownstones as children throw snowballs at each other. The room is beautiful and rich and simply complex, a perfect reflection of Regina.

"This room has an en suite. It will save you from having to walk too far," Regina says as she places the bag of Emma's clothes on a chaise lounge at the end of the bed. She walks over to Emma and takes her hands. "Besides, I want to be near you, and if you stay in one of the guestrooms, I'll have to get up several times each night to check on you. You don't want me to have to walk through the cold, dark hallways throughout the night, do you?" she pouts.

Sleeping in the same bed as Regina sounds like heaven, although she fantasized about that occurring in a very different way. "No, of course not. I'd rather know you are close and safe," Emma admits reluctantly.

"Good," Regina says with a small smile. "Let's get you set up, shall we?"

After reading the newspaper, Emma, who is propped up in bed with a drink and other reading material nearby, sighs.

"What are you thinking?" Regina asks softly from her seat next to the window. She is reviewing some legal documents, and the last thing Emma wants to do is distract her.

"Nothing important." After a pause, she admits in a small voice, "I just, it's entirely irrational, but I wish I could hold you."

"That sounds pretty important to me," Regina says with a smile. She starts to rise.

"No, no. I don't want to interrupt, and you've already lost time from yesterday's events."

"Emma, please humor me," Regina says as she relocates to the bed, plumping up the pillows to lean against them. She cuddles into Emma's right side. "Let me know if this is too much."

"I will," Emma whispers. She is glad that Regina is next to her, even if she is feeling rather needy. A knock on the door precedes Henry's entering the room.

"Mind if I hang out here?" he asks meekly.

"Not at all. Sit wherever," Emma answers.

His eyes wander the room before he shrugs and plops himself down on his stomach at the end of the bed. Emma turns her head to catch Regina's eyes, and they grin at each other. It feels good to have both of them so close.

They while away the afternoon reading, working, chatting when a thought needs to be shared. It is comfortable and familiar, their past interactions the perfect foundation, each day having built upon the others to get them to this point.

A kiss to her jaw captures Emma's attention, and she looks over to Regina, melting into her smile. "Hi," she whispers.

"Hi," Regina whispers back, stroking Emma's arm. "Are you hungry?"

"Getting there," Emma admits.

Nodding, Regina grabs the drink nearby and hands it to Emma. "Drink this up, and I'll have Henry bring you a refill." She takes the empty glass moments later and rises from the bed. "Henry, how do you feel about helping me whip up some supper?"

He looks up with a smile. "Sure!"

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" Regina asks.

"Yeah. That's a good idea," Emma says, holding her ribs as she slowly swings her feet off the bed onto the floor. With a grimace, she wraps her arm around Regina's shoulder and rises. Once on her feet, she catches her breath while Regina waits patiently. "Okay," Emma says, and they move to the en suite.

"Do you need help?" Regina asks softly once they are just inside the door.

"No," Emma answers. "Later, though, maybe tomorrow morning, I'd like to take a shower. I might need help then." She can feel her face heating up. Although she doesn't like Regina seeing her this way, Emma doesn't want to make her injuries worse or the recuperation time longer by being stubborn.

"Whatever you need, Emma," Regina says, and her eyes are so sincere, her voice so soothing, that Emma knows it will be okay.

Taking her time in the bathroom, Emma lifts her right foot so she can look at her calf. Maybe she'll ask Regina to help her clean it off. And her shoulder. She knows she won't be able to do it herself, and seeing the iodine and blood bothers her. Finishing up, Emma returns to the bedroom just as Henry comes in. He holds a drink and a new ice pack in his hands.

"Thanks, Henry," Emma says. She swallows some of the ginger ale, smiling at how Regina remembers such small details, and places it on the bedside table. Henry helps her back into bed and places the ice gingerly on her side. Emma smiles her appreciation. "What are you and Regina cooking up?"

Eyes lighting up, Henry says, "Something you'll love. Are you okay for now?"

"Yup. I'm good."

"Be back soon. It shouldn't take long," he says and practically skips out of the room.

While waiting for them, Emma turns on her cell phone and is surprised to see a number of missed calls, texts, and e-mails. Most are from the media, and she wonders how they got her contact information. It's probably better that she's not at home. Although this feels more like home than the apartment. That has everything to do with being surrounded by Regina.

Skipping through the voicemail, she listens only to the one from Mary Margaret. She wants to come by tomorrow afternoon to say hello. David shouts in the background that he wants to come, too, and Emma smiles. They are good people. A couple of messages are from the moms of Henry's friends, reaching out to see if she needs anything. She is surprised. Not wanting to talk to anyone, she sends several texts before setting the phone aside.

"Here we go," Regina says as she enters the room with a tray. Henry walks in behind her with another tray. Both are laden with food. The aromas are amazing.

"Oh, my God, that smells heavenly," Emma says, her stomach growling.

"Just call me Regina, dear," she teases as she sets the tray down. Henry chuckles. Emma ignores him. Her attention is focused solely on the food. On the tray are a salad, grilled cheese sandwiches, and tomato soup. Each looks a thousand times better than anything she's ever tasted.

"This looks great," Emma says, accepting the plate filled with salad and sandwich. She places it on her lap so that she can take the bowl of soup. Regina and Henry soon have their food, and they eat on the bed together.

Moaning as she chews the sandwich, Emma's eyes flick up for a moment and are captured by an intense stare. She watches as Regina's eyes dilate, widening so much that she can hardly see the brown irises. Emma's mouth opens in surprise. She watches as a sultry smile spreads across Regina's face.

"I take it you are enjoying the food," Regina says with a throaty voice.

"Very much," Emma admits. How she can make such simple fare taste orgasmic is beyond Emma's understanding. But she's grateful. So grateful. And that smile. It hints at a passion Emma briefly tasted at the party.

"I told you the way to Mom's heart is through food," Henry crows.

"So it seems," Regina says, her amusement clear.

Emma blushes because it's true. Food is important to her, and Regina is an awesome cook. Just another reason to love the woman.

"Of course I realized that at the holiday party," Regina continues, picking up Emma's hand and kissing her knuckles.

They smile at each other. Emma wonders whether the mistletoe is still in the den.

"I took it down," Regina whispers.

Turning her head, their noses bump, and Emma chuckles. She wonders at how in-tune they are. The woman is practically reading her mind.

"Pity," Emma whispers back.

"I no longer need an excuse to kiss you, do I?"

"Not at all. I'm all yours," Emma says, and although they're flirting, she is very serious.

Regina cups her face with both hands and leans her forehead against Emma's. They stay that way for a few moments before Regina pulls back with a soft smile. Her eyes assure Emma that the feeling is mutual.

They finish eating, and Henry leaves to shower and change for bed. It's still early, but he's tired. Emma is, too.

After piling the dirty plates on a tray, Regina places it and the other one on top of the bureau. Returning to Emma, she sit closely so she is facing her and leans in. The kiss she delivers is unexpected. Emma moans loudly as Regina's tongue swipes across her lower lip. Allowing entrance, Emma tilts her head to remove the space between them as their tongues slide across each other. Emma feels Regina's fingers weaving through her hair, and she loses herself in the taste and texture of her addictive mouth.

Soft lips slowly move down to her chin, sucking on it for a moment before butterfly kisses are delivered down her neck to her pulse point. Those magical lips stall and suck for several exquisite moments before Regina's tongue and teeth join in, driving Emma crazy. Emma keeps her eyes closed, head leaning against her pillows, hands holding Regina close. These feelings Regina inspire overwhelm her. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you, Emma," Regina whispers before taking Emma's earlobe between her teeth and sucking it. "And I intend to take every opportunity to show you. To make you feel my love."

"I do," Emma says breathlessly, trembling with the force of her desire. "I feel it. And I love you. So much."

"Good," Regina says as she pulls back. "That's good." They beam at each other, hands clasping between them. "I know you're tired. I think we all are. I'm going to take care of the dishes and prepare some of the food for tomorrow. Don't feel you need to wait up for me."

"I don't think I'll be able to even if I try," Emma admits. "Don't take too long."

"I won't. I plan on holding you all night long," Regina promises softly.

Emma believes her.


	6. Chapter 5

**This is an extremely long chapter. I didn't want to shortchange Christmas Day. I hope you will take the time to let me know whether you enjoy this chapter. I'll be posting the Epilogue soon.**

 **Thank you for all the comments, follows, and favorites.**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Christmas Day: December 25**

The bedroom is quiet, peaceful, and warm. Emma can feel Regina's body curled against her, arm around her waist, and fingers splayed underneath her t-shirt over her belly. She's glad she shed the sweatshirt for sleepwear. Regina is a furnace. _Guess I'm the little spoon._ Not that she minds. Soft breasts press into her back, and toned thighs envelop hers. Both feel glorious.

She slept surprisingly well. Her ribs are sore, but she is able to breathe deeper. Opening her eyes, Emma gently places her hand over Regina's, stroking it with her thumb. She hears an inhalation and feels Regina's breath hit the back of her neck, stirring the little hairs at her nape. She shivers. A nose pushes aside her hair, and plump lips kiss the juncture of neck and shoulder before sucking softly. Emma hums.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," Regina says, her hand turning over to capture Emma's fingers, intertwining them and squeezing.

"Merry Christmas, Regina," Emma answers.

"You feel wonderful in my arms. I can't remember the last time I slept so well," Regina says, delivering several butterfly kisses to Emma's neck.

"Same here," Emma agrees. She tilts her head, sighing with pleasure. She can get used to this.

"I'm going to make you the best breakfast you've ever tasted."

It's as if Regina has just declared that she is going to make love to her until they can no longer move. Emma's body lights up, and she shudders. Regina's knowing chuckle does nothing to help Emma calm down.

"I had envisioned the morning after a bit differently, or at least the night before," Emma murmurs.

"Don't worry, dear. We'll get there," Regina says, nipping at Emma's earlobe before releasing her and getting up. She looks at Emma apologetically. "If I stay in bed any longer I may end up doing something that might hurt you. I'm trying to keep my hands to myself." She rounds the bed and sinks next to Emma while pushing one hand through her brunette hair, mussing it adorably. "You're quite irresistible, particularly looking like that in my bed."

Her words, although delivered with no small amount of frustration, calm Emma, reassure her. Emma squeezes the pillow she's been holding all night, wondering whether she might be able to spoon Regina tonight. She hadn't felt Regina move during the night, so she doubts she'll get an elbow to her sore ribs.

Lifting herself up with her right hand, Emma swings her feet off the bed and sits upright as Regina rises. Although sore, Emma does not feel any sharp pains. It's a good start to the day. Regina steps forward to help her stand, and they remain in a loose embrace. Sighing, Emma inhales the scent of Regina's hair—lavender. "You smell good," Emma whispers. She feels a soft kiss on her collarbone in response.

"I'm so glad you're here," Regina says. "I've dreamt about having you closer, wanted this so much."

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," Emma says simply. Regina raises her head so that their eyes connect. Their smiles connect. Their souls connect.

With a small parting kiss, Emma makes her way to the bathroom while Regina leaves to make breakfast. Emma brushes her teeth with care, not wanting to jostle her ribs. Finishes her ablutions as efficiently as she can. Cuts herself some slack. Acknowledges her injuries. Knows they are temporary.

It could be worse. Much worse.

Walking back into the bedroom, she hears a knock on the door. Henry is awake. Smiling brightly, she beckons him to enter. "Merry Christmas, Henry," she says, extending her arms. They hug, Henry hesitant and gentle.

"Merry Christmas, Mom. Let me help you back into bed," he offers.

"Did you sleep well?" she asks, stifling a groan as she slides under the covers. Henry fluffs up the pillows and helps her lean against them.

"Yeah. The bed's really comfortable," he says.

"I know, right! This bed is incredible," Emma agrees with a broad smile. "Regina's making breakfast. Do you want to help her?"

"She said she didn't need any help. I was gonna get the presents so we can open them after we eat," Henry says around a yawn. He stretches his arms over his head, arching his back, mouth open wide. His over-the-top antics make Emma chuckle.

"Right. Can you hand me my purse?" Once she receives it, she retrieves Regina's gift and places it under the covers, near her hip. "Okay. Go get the rest of the presents, please." She runs a hand through her hair. She's nervous. It's silly. Even if Regina doesn't like the gift, she'll still accept it gracefully. She'll accept the emotions attached to it.

Mouthwatering smells make Emma's nose twitch, and Regina enters with a large tray laden with plates, cutlery, juice, bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit. "I didn't want to make too much since you'll be eating a feast later on."

"This is what, a snack?" Emma jokes.

"Mmhmm. Yes. Like your kisses," Regina whispers into Emma ear as she leans in to deliver a filled plate. Her eyes sparkle when she pulls back for a moment before leaning in again to say, "A tasty snack. A hint of what's to come."

A trickle of perspiration rolls between Emma's shoulder blades, and she swallows convulsively, trying to add moisture to her suddenly dry mouth. _Did it get hot in here?_ Emma pulls at the front of her shirt, her skin sensitive to the cotton against it.

"Um," Emma says, dazed.

Regina is too sexy for her own good. How is Emma supposed to function when she is whispering such provocative words, gazing at her like she's ravenous, touching her so lovingly? Shaking her head slightly, Emma hears Henry talking and wonders how much she's missed. It's incredible how much power Regina has over her. Not that she would change it. A hand on her knee reassures her, and when she lifts her eyes, she is greeted with an affectionate look.

"Aren't you hungry?" Henry asks.

His voice sounds concerned but his eyes let her know that if she doesn't start eating soon, he's going to swipe what's on her plate. She shovels some eggs on her fork and moans once she tastes it. _How does she make scrambled eggs taste so light and creamy? And is that kick at the end, is that chili pepper?_

"Regina, this is heavenly," Emma mutters around her next forkful. "Thank you." Their eyes connect, and Emma shoots her a smile.

"You're welcome," Regina replies with one of those special smiles that makes the day infinitely better.

They spend the next several minutes eating quietly. Well, except for Emma, who moans as she tastes the bacon and the sausages after she polishes off the eggs. Henry giggles at Emma's noises, and Regina's eyes darken. Once they finish, Regina piles the used dishware on the tray and places it on the bureau.

"Time for presents?" Henry says excitedly.

"Yup," Emma agrees, smiling. She hopes Henry will always feel this exuberant about the holidays. It wasn't until he came along that she even began to care about Christmas. "But Christmas pictures first." She turns to Regina. "Every year we take individual and group pictures." She looks at Henry. "At least this year we'll have more than two in the group."

Noticing Regina's dumbfounded look, Emma says, "Unless you don't want to be in the pictures. You don't have to, of course. It's not like you even expected us to be here or sharing the holidays with us. We've never had anyone else in them, so—"

"No, no," Regina interjects, stopping Emma's nervous rambling. "I want to be in them." She smiles brightly, and Emma sighs with relief.

Henry takes Emma's cell phone and points it at Emma. "Ready?"

She grimaces, knowing how horrible she looks. "Maybe we should take them after I take a shower. Or maybe I should wear a hat or something." Soft fingers comb through her hair, calming her.

"Let me tie it back, okay?" Regina says softly. Emma nods. Regina sits back down a moment later with a brush and hair elastic. It only takes her a minute to finish, and Emma feels much better. She can't help the tightness of her eyes or the evidence of pain on her face, but her smile is real when Henry takes the pictures. He takes Regina's photos next, and her smile is breathtaking. Regina takes the phone from Henry to take his picture, and his goofy smile reflects happiness.

"Now, how are we going to take the group picture?" Emma asks.

"First let me take a picture of you two," Regina says.

Emma looks at her suspiciously. "You're not getting out of the group photo."

Chuckling, Regina holds her hands up innocently. "I'm not trying to." She takes their picture, Henry sitting next to Emma on the bed, before approaching them. "Let's see if we can all fit in the photo." She sits on Emma's other side, an arm around Emma's shoulders, and holds her hand out in front of them with the camera. It's a tight fit, but she takes the pictures of them, their happy faces filling up the screen.

"Mary Margaret and David mentioned coming by later. Maybe they can take our picture, too."

"Are you insinuating that I am not a good picture-taker?" Regina teases, a mock-scowl on her face.

"Insinuating is much too subtle for me," Emma says with a laugh. And after a moment, Regina's face dissolves into a grin.

"Now is it time for presents?" Henry asks.

"Yes, absolutely," Emma agrees.

"I'll be right back," Regina says and leaves the room, the tray filled with dirty dishes in her hands.

Humming a Christmas tune under her breath, Emma grins at her son as he plunks the bag of presents on the bed. They had made a stocking for Regina, Emma's barely used sewing skills put to work last weekend to add Regina's name on it. It was hokey and silly and cheesy. She and Henry always filled stockings for each other with little things like candy and pens and socks and puzzles. They went shopping together to fill Regina's stocking, finding various items they hope she will enjoy. Henry removes all three stockings and lays them out on the bed. He makes a big production of pulling out the wrapped gifts. Several are for him, including a large box containing a videogame system, something he's talked about for months.

After looking in the bag once more, Henry pulls out two thin presents and places one before Emma and the other next to Regina's stocking. "Those are from me," he says unnecessarily.

"Thanks," Emma says. "I can't wait to open it." Henry's made her presents since kindergarten. Always thoughtful, for the last few years Henry has created them without the guidance of school teachers. She knows he will eventually begin buying them, but for now she treasures these gifts that he spends time and effort on, appreciates how much thought he devotes to them.

As Regina enters, her hands full of presents, Emma admires how she appears in her silk pajamas. The plum-colored button-down shirt and loose pajama pants complement her brunette locks, coffee-colored eyes, and olive complexion. Regina sets down a large box in front of Emma and a smaller one in front of Henry.

"It's funny. I didn't even think to bring these to work on Friday. I just assumed I'd see you both this weekend." Frowning, Regina adds, "I'd imagined under better circumstances."

"Well, yeah, Friday sucked, but it's all working out," Emma says. She wants to touch Regina, pat her knee or rub her arm, but to do so Emma would have to bend. Right now she does not wish to show any discomfort. She prefers for them to enjoy exchanging gifts without the constant physical reminder of why they are sitting on Regina's bed on Christmas morning.

 _Who knows_ , Emma muses. _Next year at this time we may all be sitting here just like this._ She hopes.

Seeing Henry eying the gifts, Emma says sternly, "Stockings first."

"Right," Henry says, his natural impatience melting away to happiness as he pulls his stocking toward him.

"I know it's hokey, but it's made with love," Emma says as she indicates Regina's stocking. "We have a tradition of the stockings where we put small things in there. Henry and I did our best to fill it with things you'll enjoy." After a moment's hesitation, she adds waving her hand over the stockings, "I guess we assumed we'd see you, too."

Regina's wondrous smile flows over Emma, and she is glad they made the effort. Henry's exclamations as he finishes emptying his stocking are music to Emma's ears. She laughs at his enthusiasm and empties her own stocking. Inside are Hershey bars and mechanical pencils and Tic Tacs and Sudoku and cherry lip balm and makeup wipes and down at the very bottom in the toe of the stocking is a jewelry box.

Flitting her eyes toward Henry, she notices that he is watching her closely, and her eyebrows shoot up. Lifting the lid, Emma eyes widen. Inside is a breathtaking glass ring, colors swirling in a unique mixture of gold, brown, blue, green, yellow, and red, swirling, weaving, and combining to form a dazzling design.

"It's Italian. What's it called, Regina?"

"Murano. Henry has very good taste," Regina says, sharing a smile with him.

"Regina helped me pick it out. I wanted to give you something special this year," Henry says, his ears reddening adorably.

"I love it, Henry. Thank you, sweetie," she says sincerely, donning it immediately and staring at it. It's beautiful, and she loves the fact that Henry and Regina picked it out together. She is tempted to ask when they went shopping, but she decides to let that go. She certainly has no problem with them spending time together. She trusts Regina with Henry.

She checks to see whether Regina has finished discovering what's in her stocking. They had so much fun finding things for her, walking through Faneuil Hall and checking out all the stalls. A scales of justice pencil sharpener and crosswords and red fuzzy Christmas socks and a Star Wars Death Star Tea Infuser and a Newton's Cradle fridge magnet and an eyeglass kit and homemade peppermint soap and a booklet of passes for movie nights and foot rubs and kisses and errands and date nights. They stuffed the stocking, and Emma realizes they may have overdone it. Regina's eyes are tearing and her face is red and her fingers are squeezing the stress ball they gave her.

"Regina?" Emma asks, not wanting her to be unhappy. When those bright eyes look up at her, she's rendered speechless. The adoration is so prevalent that Emma's fears are quieted. "We had a great time filling it," Emma says, indicating the stocking.

"Yeah, we made some of the stuff," Henry adds. "Like the soap and the passes and the snow globe. That was cool. Oh! And the instant mocha mix. We know you love that stuff, even if you try to eat only healthy stuff."

A burst of laughter erupts from Regina, her hand pressing against her trembling lips for a moment before she removes it, revealing that dazzling smile. "I love it. All of it. I've never felt so loved. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But next year you'll have to help me with Henry's stocking," Emma says lightly, smirking at her.

"That works for me!" Henry crows. "Now the presents," he declares as her grabs the gift Regina placed before him and rips off the beautiful navy and silver wrapping paper. The silver bow finds its way onto his t-shirt. He opens the gift box and breathes out, "Whoa."

"What is it?" Emma asks, barely refraining from leaning forward. She watches as he lifts out a handsome leather-bound journal. Her eyes widen in surprise. It's gorgeous. Obviously handmade, a strap wraps it closed around the middle of a chestnut-colored leather jacket. "HDS" is embossed on the bottom right of the cover. Now she understands why Regina had asked about his name months ago. "Open it," Emma prompts Henry.

As soon as he opens it, they can see that the paper is also handmade. A wooden pen with black and chrome accents hangs in its designated spot to the right of the paper. On the first page, Regina's flowing penmanship can be seen. "Henry, in here you can write, draw, imagine, dare. Let yourself loose. Love, Regina."

Henry smiles brightly at Regina. "Thanks! This is awesome. How did you know?"

"I've seen you take out a notebook at the firm many times, jotting down something or another before returning it to your backpack. At first I thought you were doing homework, but I noticed you'd do it while playing a game on your phone or while reading one of those fantasy books you adore." Regina shrugs. "You deserve a proper journal where you can get your thoughts down. And the paper is refillable, so don't hold back. When you get close to the end, let me know, and I'll get you a refill. And the same goes for the pen ink."

Emma watches as Henry's fingers run over the front of the journal reverently. She knows he will carry it everywhere. He's always had an active imagination, often acting out elaborate scenes where he is a knight, a prince, a hero. Over the last few years he has taken to writing down his stories, and his teachers have encouraged him to keep at it. A perfect gift.

"Emma, open yours next," Regina says softly, her fingers brushing over the top of Emma's hand. Regina lifts the large box and places it carefully on Emma's lap. "Do you need help?"

Shaking her head, Emma admires the red and gold wrapping paper. She places the bow on her head and slices through the tape at one corner with her thumbnail. Emma loves how elegant the wrapping paper is. She doesn't want to rip it.

"Mom! Open it," Henry whines.

Even though Emma is excited and curious, she takes her time removing the wrapping paper from the large box. Her breath catches in her throat as she spreads out a long, ebony trench-style suede coat with ebony-colored wool shearling cuffs and collar. It is beautiful and soft and heavy and expensive. Emma runs her fingers over the coat, loving how it feels. Imprinted on the inside is "Pierotucci in Florence, Italy." She spots fur-lined black leather gloves, a black woolen scarf, and a matching beanie hat in the box. Tears fill her eyes. She has never received anything so beautiful before. It's too much.

Hands cup her face, and long fingers tenderly wipe away her tears. "Emma, if I could, I'd give you the world. You deserve it. I've never known anyone as selfless and loving. Please accept these gifts. Please."

Taking a few moments to get herself together, Emma sniffs loudly and grins when Henry laughs. Feeling shy, she lifts her eyes to Regina's waiting gaze. "Thank you, Regina. These are gorgeous. I don't agree that I deserve them, but I accept them gratefully. Will you help me try the coat on?"

Smiling broadly as Henry and Regina move to support her, she rises slowly, only groaning a little at the pain. Perhaps after they finish with presents she'll take a pain pill. She doesn't like to rely on medicine, but her body needs to heal. She can take a nap after she cleans up in the bathroom.

Once on her feet, Emma holds out her arms as Regina slides the coat over them. She makes her way to the full-length mirror and turns her body slightly to see how she looks.

"You look exquisite. As soon as I saw it, I knew it would be perfect. It will keep you warm during the winter months when you can't wear your red one," Regina says. She stands at Emma's side, one hand running lightly down her arm. Her eyes are bright, her rare open smile on full display.

"Thank you, Regina. This coat is so warm and comfortable. I love it," Emma says, turning to Regina and lifting a hand to brush her fingers down Regina's cheek. "I love you," she adds quietly. "Not because of the gifts or your taking care of me while I'm healing or anything like that," Emma rambles, afraid of giving Regina the wrong idea.

"Shh," Regina says, a hand capturing Emma's and bringing it to her lips to kiss reverently. "We both know these feelings have been developing for a long time. I know what you mean, just as you know that I love you."

"Whoa," Henry says, capturing their attention. He flushes. "I, um, I didn't know you two had told each other. But that's good. Really good," he says, his eyes bouncing between Emma and Regina. Emma notices that Regina looks relieved, but Emma has always known how much he likes Regina.

"Yes, it's really good," Regina agrees softly.

"Then we're all in agreement," Emma says, clapping her hands and grimacing as her ribs twinge. After viewing herself in the mirror for a few more moments, she asks, "Can you help me take this off?" She's roasting in it. As soon as it's off, she moves back to the bed and carefully slides in. Sure hands guide her, and she smiles her thanks to Regina. Once settled, she says, "Regina this is for you," while reaching under the covers to retrieve the jewelry box.

Not trusting her gift-wrapping skills, Emma had it wrapped professionally with festive Christmas paper. Her fingers worry the blanket lying over her waist, eyes watching Regina closely. She wants to know, really know, whether Regina likes the gift. She spent weeks agonizing over what to give her.

With a big exhalation, Regina opens the jewelry box and stares. And stares. And stares. Emma has no idea whether she likes it, and _oh, my God! I made a mistake, what a stupid idea! I'm an idiot! How corny and unsophisticated and—_

"Emma!" is ripped out of Regina's mouth, and Emma's own mouth drops open as she realizes that Regina is trembling, tears streaming over her cheeks steadily. "This is, this is incredible. Incredible," she breathes.

Emma doesn't know what to do to calm Regina. She's never seen her so emotional. It's as if a veil has been lifted, and behind it lives a passionate woman, one who feels so much. "You like it?" Emma asks softly.

"Like it?" Regina repeats incredulously. "I love it. I love you." She looks over to Henry. "Both of you."

Emma and Henry beam at Regina and at each other. Any other time they'd be high-fiving. Henry says with excitement, "We picked out all the charms, and there's space to add more."

They watch as Regina fingers the gold charm bracelet and each charm, a soft smile permanently affixed to her face. "God! I've cried more over the last few days than I have since I was a child," she grouses, mock-glaring at Emma as she wipes away her tears and sniffs loudly. They all laugh. "If anyone at the firm saw me, it'd ruin my reputation."

Still chuckling, Emma says, "This side of you is for us and a few select friends. After all, we don't want anyone to know what a complete mushball you truly are." They chuckle, allowing happiness to fill them. "So, the charms we got, they all mean something. The swan is me, the crown is you for your name—"

"I thought of that," Henry interrupts, and Emma just smiles.

"Yeah. And the basketball is Henry, the rolling pin for your cooking skills, and the apple because you make the best apple pie in the world," Emma continues.

"Please tell me you're making one today," Henry says, his best puppy-dog face on display.

Emma and Regina laugh as Regina nods.

"Yes!" Henry says, punching the air.

"The scales of justice charm is for you being an attorney, and the heart is, well, it represents," Emma says, looking down, feeling embarrassed.

"You have her heart," Henry says, and Emma's not sure whether to thank him or punch him in the arm. She shoots him a dirty look, and he has the good grace to look abashed. "Sorry," he mutters.

Fingers tangle with hers, and Emma peeks through her lashes to see that special, soul-lighting smile directed at her once more. "Thank you. I will always cherish it." They gaze lovingly at each other until Henry shifts restlessly on the bed. "Will you put it on me?" she asks, extending her arm.

"Sure," Emma agrees, quickly finding the clasp and securing the bracelet on Regina's delicate wrist. She can feel Regina's pulse racing, and she rubs the area soothingly before saying, "It looks great." She's proud of herself. Proud that she has given Regina something meaningful.

"It does," Regina agrees.

"So, here are my presents to you," Henry says, obviously done with all the sappiness, and pushes the presents toward Regina and Emma.

Emma opens hers to see that it's a CD of songs Henry compiled. She reviews the list and smiles. They are a mixture of songs that she likes and he likes. The last entry says, "Top Ten Reasons Why You're the Best Mom Ever."

"So, I made the last entry," Henry explains. "I did it last week. Otherwise I would have added savior."

She scowls, but she doesn't really care. She's getting used to the ribbing and glad to be around to hear it. _I bet this will be a hell of a list._ Emma wonders what he gave Regina. She notices that Regina is also holding a CD. "Switch?" she asks, extending her arm with her CD. They swap, and Emma reviews the compilation list. It has a mixture of songs Henry likes and several they've heard Regina hum over the last few months. She sees that the last entry for her CD says, "Top Ten Reasons Why You're the Best Attorney Ever."

"Good job," she compliments Henry, and he smiles broadly. "Thanks, Henry. I can't wait to listen to it," Emma says.

"Me, too. Thank you for such a thoughtful gift," Regina says. They swap back the CDs, and Emma urges Henry to open his other presents while Regina moves to sit cuddled next to Emma. They grin and smile and smirk and chuckle as Henry exclaims and oohs and aahs over the presents he has received. It is a wonderful morning, and Emma has never felt so much love and comfort surrounding her. This is the best Christmas she's ever experienced. She can tell by Henry's wide smile that he feels the same way.

"Well," Regina says apologetically as she rises from the bed. "I should get started on the food. I'll bring the ice pack up for you and a drink. Do you need anything else?"

"I was thinking of taking a shower. If you can help me up, I should be okay," Emma says. She bites back her request for help, knowing Regina will do it but not wanting to take up any more of her time.

An appraising gaze studies her for several seconds. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone. What if you slip in the shower or lose your balance?"

"I need to at least brush my teeth right now, but I can wait until later to take a shower," Emma says, hoping her seeming acquiescence will sound convincing. In truth, she plans on taking the shower without any help.

"I don't believe you, Miss Swan," Regina says, and Emma blushes, knowing she's caught. "So, here's what's going to happen. We're going to help you to the bathroom. While you are using it, I will go downstairs to pop a few items in the oven that I prepared last night, retrieve a drink for you, and return here, at which time I will knock on the bathroom door to let you know I am back. Then, I will help you with the shower. You will not attempt showering on your own. You will not pretend that you are one hundred percent healthy. You will not give in to that stubborn, mule-headed thinking that you must take care of yourself every moment of every day."

Emma blinks several times. "Okay," she says timidly, properly cowed.

"Emma," Regina says tenderly, stepping forward. "Let me help you. Please. I promise it won't change my feelings for you. I'm sorry if you feel embarrassed, but it's more important to me that you are safe. I'll do my best not to make you feel uncomfortable."

With a large sigh, Emma nods her head. _This is so ridiculous. Can I be any more pathetic?_ "I'm sorry, Regina. Thank you for being so considerate."

Henry helps her up from the bed. "I get it, Mom, but don't worry so much," he whispers before kissing her cheek. He walks back to the bed and gathers his presents. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up, too." He exits as Regina joins her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

They walk to the bathroom slowly, and Emma realizes she is sore and tired. This whole being hurt thing sucks royally.

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't do anything idiotic," Regina says gruffly. She leans in and kisses her chastely.

"Right," Emma mutters, going through the painful process of pulling down her pants and sitting on the toilet. "Ridiculous. Stupid. Pitiful." She's not sure whether she is complaining about how incapacitated she feels or her inability to accept help that is so freely offered.

After finishing her ablutions and removing the bow from her head, Emma feels a thousand times better. At least her teeth don't feel like moss is growing over them. She hears Regina enter the bedroom and opens the bathroom door. She knows by the look in Regina's eyes that she does not approve of the pain Emma's face must be reflecting. She just hurts all over.

"Oh, Emma," Regina says sadly, reaching forward to hug her loosely. "Why do you insist on being so damn stubborn?"

Breathing in Regina's scent, Emma rests her forehead against her shoulder and sighs. "I don't want you to see me like this," she whispers. She knows she sounds like a broken record, but she is genuinely mortified at her weakness, at the ugly splashes of blood and iodine, at the bruising and stitches and scratches and—how can Regina think of her as a possible lover while viewing her this way? She doesn't realize she's crying until strong arms pull her in more and gentle fingers comb through her snarled curls.

"Is it so hard to believe that I love you? That I want to help you? That it kills me to see you in pain? That my feelings will not diminish with viewing wounds you received while protecting me?"

Hearing the catch in Regina's voice, Emma shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I've always had to be the strong one, and I'm unfamiliar with trusting anyone." Taking a deep breath, Emma looks up. "I do trust you, I swear. It's just a hard adjustment, knowing I can let down my walls and be seen as weak."

"Weak? Emma Swan, you are not weak. Far from it. And allowing yourself to be vulnerable shows great strength. I promise not to betray your trust," she whispers, grazing her lips across Emma's mouth. Once. Twice. On the third pass, Regina's lips stall and press firmly, pulling a moan from Emma's soul. They kiss languidly, tongues slowly rubbing together, emotions high. When Regina pulls back as their kiss ends, their eyes connect, and Emma finally allows herself to accept that Regina really does love her.

"I, um, I need some help getting my clothes off, but before that, I was wondering whether you'd be willing to wash off the blood and iodine from my shoulder and calf," Emma says.

"Of course." Regina helps Emma sit down on the closed toilet lid and fills the sink with warm water before gathering soap and a washcloth. "Calf first?" Emma nods and extends her leg. Regina kneels before her and places the leg on her knee, pushing up the pant leg.

Focusing on Regina's face, Emma feels a bubble of emotion floating up her chest. She is so damn emotional! Never has she felt this way, these waves of affection and respect and awe and gratefulness. The little furrow between Regina's eyebrows that develops while she focuses on cleaning Emma's calf is nearly as attractive as the black glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose when she reads.

"All done," Regina says softly, placing Emma's leg on the ground. "Now the shoulder." She rises and grabs a large, fluffy towel. "If you don't want me to see you, I understand. You can turn around so your back is to me, and wrap the towel around you once I help you remove your t-shirt."

"Regina," Emma says. Once she catches Regina's gaze, she says, "It's not that I don't want you to see me; I mean it is, but not why you might think. I wanted the first time to be when we are, um, well, when we're ready to be closer physically. But I've been listening to you, and I believe you when you say that it won't change your feelings for me. So, I, I don't need this," she finishes, placing her hand over Regina's fisted one with the towel in it.

"Okay." Regina looks blown away. And pleased.

So worth it.

"Okay," Regina repeats. She places the towel back on the rack and slowly lifts the t-shirt up Emma's back and over her head, bunching the material over Emma's forearms. Emma allows the shirt to slide over her hands, which rest on her lap, feeling the cool air caress her sides, her breasts, and her shoulders. Regina gasps.

"It's not that bad," Emma says, fighting to not cover herself up. Looking down she can see how the bruising has intensified, covering most of her left side. "It looks worse than it feels." She can hear the falseness of her words and watches as Regina grimaces.

"Regardless of how terrible those bruises appear, I have to say that you are stunning, and I can't wait to explore every inch of you. Slowly. And thoroughly."

The look in Regina's eyes matches the velvety sensuousness of her voice. Emma barely keeps from swooning. She can't help but smirk as she says, "That makes two of us." They share a smile, and Emma turns on the toilet seat so that she's facing the sink, allowing Regina easier access to her shoulder.

"All done," Regina says a few minutes later, her breath tickling the back of Emma's neck.

Emma feels goosebumps appear, and she can see that her nipples have tightened with Regina being so near. _What an asinine time to get aroused_ , she chastises herself _._

"I hope you realize how much self-restraint I am exercising right now," Regina says, kissing behind Emma's ear. She takes the towel and places it closer to the shower with another one before turning the water on. After the temperature is set, Regina looks at her, eyes dark and head tilted in that seductive way she has, and says, "I think it will be safest if we shower together. I can make sure you don't twist suddenly or slip."

Before Emma can begin to feel self-conscious, she watches Regina unbutton her top, her eyes burning into Emma's widened ones, daring her to say something, to stop her. Emma doesn't want to and couldn't even if she did: she had been rendered speechless.

"Oh, God," Emma moans, watching the silk top slide off Regina's torso and onto the floor, the whispering of the material stoking Emma's desires. "You're beautiful," she chokes out, glad she is able to say something, anything to express how breathtaking Regina is.

"So are you, Emma," Regina says throatily. She allows her pants to pool at her feet and steps out of them while continuing to watch Emma closely. "Let me help you," she says as she moves in front of Emma and slowly pulls her into a standing position.

When Regina's warm hands touch her around her waist, their breasts graze provocatively, and Emma squeezes her eyes closed, moaning loudly. "Regina," she whispers, feeling gentle fingers rub circles on her lower back.

"Shh, my dear. It's okay," Regina murmurs, resting her forehead on Emma's collarbone. "Let me just feel you for a moment." They stand in each other's arms, bodies pressed together, breathing in sync, eyes closed.

A soft kiss above her left breast stirs Emma enough to meet an affectionate gaze. She allows her lips to curve up as she rubs her hands over Regina's toned arms. "If you were looking for a way to compel me to heal faster, you've found it." Regina's low chuckle washes over Emma.

"Mm, whatever works." They share a look before Regina asks, "Ready?" With Emma's nod, she wastes no time slipping her fingers just inside the elastic band of Emma's flannel pants and sliding them down, using her foot to push it to the floor while she holds on to Emma's hips, keeping her steady as Emma steps out of them. When Regina's eyes rake over Emma's body a moment later, Emma feels it like a physical caress. "God, Emma. I want you so much."

"Me, too. Maybe if we're really careful—"

"Don't tempt me! God, I'd never forgive myself if you got hurt because of my inability to control my libido," Regina huffs. "Come on. You in first."

Shuffling into the water stream, Emma makes sure the water is only hitting the front of her right side. She hopes taking a shower won't hurt too much, but having wounds all over the place pretty much guarantees that this will not be pleasurable. Perhaps Regina being with her in the shower isn't such a bad idea. At least her presence will distract her. She feels Regina's delicious curves crowd her, brushing against her back and buttocks, reminding her of how they'd cuddled throughout the night.

"Turn around," Regina whispers, her hands on Emma's shoulders, guiding her.

As soon as she turns, Regina takes the small half-step forward so that their bodies once more touch, only this time not only do their breasts push against each other, but so do their bellies and thighs. Regina turns Emma a bit more so that the water will not touch the stitches on her shoulder blade, and her hand under Emma's chin guides her head under the water. She smells Regina's lavender shampoo as strong fingers massage it through her hair.

"Mm, that feels wonderful," Emma sighs. She leans against Regina with eyes closed, reveling in the caring touches, the loving caresses. Her neck arches as Regina rinses out the shampoo and suds it up again.

"You're gorgeous. I love feeling you against me," Regina rasps, her hands lowering to the back of Emma's neck, her thumbs running behind her ears.

Gasping, Emma's eyes fly open and are caught in rich chocolate eyes just before Regina pushes up on her toes to reach Emma's lips with her own. Emma tastes her desire, her devotion, her restraint, and she loves Regina all the more for it. Their lips open and tongues tangle, wet and passionate and fulfilling. Emma reluctantly allows Regina to withdraw, and she clutches onto Regina's hips as she finishes washing and conditioning Emma's hair.

"I wish I could return the favor," Emma says with regret.

"I'll hold you to that once you are more mobile," Regina promises with a smile as she efficiently shampoos her hair and rinses it, applying conditioner next while Emma holds her as she was held: front to back.

"It's hard not to touch you," Emma whispers, feeling Regina tremble in her arms. She lets go as Regina reaches for a loofah pad and applies shower gel to it. Emma can tell that she's uncertain about what to do next, so she turns Regina around and cups Regina's face lovingly. "You can touch me. I want you to touch me. I know we aren't going to get too carried away, no matter how badly we want to do more, and I trust you." She kisses Regina's cheeks, eyelids, and temples before placing her hand over the one holding the loofah and guides it to her breastbone.

Breathing in the steam as Regina carefully runs the sponge over her torso, neck, arms, legs, buttocks, and back, Emma feels Regina pause. Emma smirks and widens her stance, the challenge clear. As expected, Regina lifts her chin before flicking her eyes over Emma's soapy body, zeroing in on the apex of her legs. Stepping forward, Regina's body slides against Emma's as slowly she directs the loofah to Emma's waist, inward over her curls, and finally through swollen folds. Emma cannot hold back a guttural moan, and if Regina's other hand were not on her lower back, keeping her from wobbling, she knows she would not be able to remain standing.

Butterfly kisses are scattered over her chest, neck, and face as Regina continues to swipe through her weeping center, and it takes only a moment to realize that Regina has removed the loofah and is using her fingers. "Oh, Regina," Emma whimpers. Fingers explore her so carefully, so gently, feeling the proof of her desire.

"You feel incredible," Regina says, her voice so low and shaky that Emma feels it vibrate through her deliciously. With obvious reluctance, Regina removes her fingers and turns Emma toward the water to rinse off the soap from her body.

Once Regina places more soap on the loofah to clean her own body, Emma takes it from her. "Allow me," she breathes, wanting so badly to touch Regina, explore her wet, slippery skin.

A noise in the back of Regina's throat makes Emma smile as she slowly runs the loofah over Regina's body, starting at her neck, stalling over her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples mercilessly. Her body may not be able to handle lovemaking, but that does not hold true for Regina. She can see how aroused Regina is, her body flushed and shivering under the warm water. She takes her time, holding her close as she moves the loofah over Regina's shoulders and around to her back. She feels Regina's muscles flex under her ministrations, and Emma kisses the top of Regina's wet tresses.

After washing Regina's torso, Emma meets Regina's intense stare as she lowers her hand to the juncture of her legs. She cannot bend to taste Regina's breasts, she cannot bend to wash Regina's lower body, she cannot make love to her as completely as she wishes, but she can easily reach the place where Regina's desire flows, and she intends to love this woman even in this limited capacity.

Not bothering with any pretense, Emma slides her fingers through Regina's folds, humming as she feels the viscous fluid coating them. Her fingers circle Regina's opening slowly, listening to Regina's gasps and sighs. "Regina?" she asks, unwilling to do anything Regina does not want.

Their eyes connect, and Regina stretches upward, their lips meeting for a bruising kiss as Emma's fingers slide into her. Moans bounce off the tiles as their tongues wrestle. After nibbling on a succulent lower lip, Emma moves her mouth back to catch Regina's breathless keening, and she strokes inside Regina with a steady rhythm. She lets Regina do most of the work, feeling her stitches pulling when she moves her arm too much. Regina is shaking apart, and Emma holds on to the woman as best she can without twisting. She leans in, gently pushing Regina against the shower wall for support, and kisses her forehead, scrunched in concentration. Emma drinks in the sight of Regina as she rolls her hips forward repeatedly, breasts heaving, neck arched, eyes closed.

"Emma," she says brokenly, just before releasing a wail, her body convulsing deliciously as she climaxes.

"I've got you," Emma whispers, reveling in how Regina tucks her face into the crook of Emma's neck and kisses the skin underneath lovingly. Regina trembles as her body continues to clutch at Emma's fingers, and Emma moves her fingers in small circles, enjoying how the smaller waves of pleasure cause Regina to jerk and cling tightly to her waist. Emma hears Regina's heartfelt weeping above the sounds of the water hitting the tiles, and her heart breaks a bit, knowing she is the cause of her anguish. This woman who has suffered such a scare, who feared she might lose Emma before they could ever express their feelings completely. Emma understands. She can imagine her reaction if their roles were reversed. "I'm right here," she whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You were ready to. You were willing to die. You threw yourself at him, and he could have killed you. I can't, I can't," Regina sobs, breaths coming out in big huffs.

"Shhh. I know. You're right. I know," Emma says, running her hand in soothing circles down Regina's back. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry."

"I love you, too." Regina pulls back, capturing Emma's attention with her determined look and shimmering eyes. "Emma Swan, if you ever scare me like that again, I'll kill you myself!"

"Yeah. Okay," Emma says, really understanding how tortuous this whole thing has been for her. She smiles at Regina, hoping to lighten the mood. "You are the sexiest creature I have ever laid eyes on. The way you move, woman." She notices how Regina's eyes soften, her demeanor reflecting some embarrassment. It's adorable, particularly since she is extremely confident and undeniably alluring most moments of the day. The way she swishes her hips and delivers devilish smirks, her flashing eyes and sardonic eyebrow salutes—all reflect what a sensual, passionate woman she is. "And the sounds you make—it is now my mission in life to be the cause of those as often as possible." Smiling, Emma meets Regina's lips, losing herself in one more kiss before she steps back.

Regina washes herself quickly and turns off the water, helping Emma towel off. And if her hands stall over certain areas teasingly, Emma's not complaining. She helps Emma dress in a clean pair of pajamas, warm flannels, a matching set. Emma's never seen them before. "Where'd these come from?"

"I thought you might like them," Regina says as she buttons the top.

"Thank you," Emma says. These little things Regina does are so thoughtful. She's never had anyone treat her this way, think of her comfort, her happiness.

"You're welcome," Regina answers with a small smile. She looks at Emma critically, and Emma's eyebrows rise. Before she can ask, Regina says, "Let me dry your hair."

"Um, yeah, okay," Emma stutters. Regina grabs the blow dryer, a comb, and a brush before leading Emma to an antique vanity and helping her sit down. Emma is getting tired fast, and she leans against the back of the chair with a grateful sigh. The dark wood matches the hardwood floor, and the ornate carvings are elegant and elaborate, a true reflection of Regina. Emma watches the play of emotions cross Regina's face as her hands rifle through Emma's wet tresses. She wonders what she's thinking. _Does she regret what we did in the shower?_

As if Emma voiced her fears, Regina's eyes, light and warm, connect with hers through the mirror, and gentle fingers massage Emma's neck soothingly. "That was the best shower I've ever experienced in my life," she says with a smirk. Emma grins, relieved.

It doesn't take long for Regina to dry Emma's hair. She spends much more time brushing it to a luscious shine, curls bouncing loosely around Emma's face and on her shoulders. "I've never had anyone brush my hair before," Emma admits, eyes closed, enjoying the care she feels with every stroke.

"Your hair is lovely. I've wanted to touch it for nearly as long as I've known you," Regina says softly, delivering a small kiss behind Emma's ear. "Let me help you back into bed. You look like you could do with a nap."

Without complaint, Emma accepts her drink and a pain pill. The shower brought out the bruise more, and it aches. Not that she could ever regret taking that shower. Touching Regina was magical.

Emma accepts the kiss Regina delivers with a happy sigh. Their faces remain close together, eyes locked, and all Emma can do is trace every inch of Regina's visage with her fingers, her eyes, and moments later, her lips. "I have a hard time believing that I am kissing you, that I have the privilege of kissing you."

"Anytime you want," Regina says into Emma's mouth, their lips meshing delightfully before she straightens up. "I'll bring the ice pack for you. Get some rest, dear. Believe me—I would join you if I had the time. You've worn me out."

"At least I can look forward to tonight," Emma says around a yawn. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. Not for tiring me out in such an enjoyable way." Long fingers ghost down Emma's arm before grasping Emma's hand and squeezing. "You have bewitched me, Emma Swan. Now, sleep."

"Mm, 'kay," Emma slurs, eyes closing. She feels herself succumbing to sleep, and her lips form a smile at the thought of dreaming about Regina.


	7. Epilogue

**This is the end of the road, folks. I hope you enjoyed the story and will take the time to let me know. My first foray in OUAT SwanQueen/Swen territory. How'd I do?**

 **Epilogue**

 **December 25**

Butterfly kisses on her shoulders, neck, and cheek wake Emma in the best possible way. Humming, she places her hand over warm, wandering fingers, lifting them to her lips to suck each one into her mouth and relishing the whimpers she feels breathed into her hair. Tongue, lips, and teeth attack behind her ear, in the crook of her neck, over her pulse point, and she revels in Regina's power to so easily reduce her into a weak, trembling mess.

"Merry Christmas, Emma," Regina says softly, pulling Emma's hips into her body and grinding against her backside. Her hands cup Emma's breasts possessively, drawing out a needy moan as Emma's body reacts to the stimulation.

"Merry Christmas, Regina," Emma answers, lightly panting as Regina continues to roll her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers as she rhythmically pushes into Emma again and again. And again. Not able to take anymore, Emma rolls over and takes Regina into her arms, holding her close as she kisses smiling lips.

"I love waking up with you," Emma admits. "And I particularly love waking up to you naked."

Regina puffs out a surprised laugh that turns into a moan when Emma takes one of her breasts into her mouth, sucking softly and flicking the hardened nub with her tongue. Emma rolls Regina onto her back, placing her hands on either side of Regina's shoulders as she continues to focus her attention on Regina's breast, sucking more forcefully. She feels Regina's legs wrap around her hips as she switches to the other breast, chewing on it gently, knowing how much Regina enjoys it. Fingers weave through her hair, pulling lightly at her roots before one hand cups her chin and pushes upward. Emma follows Regina's directive and leans up to meet Regina's lips.

Their kiss is fire and desire and heat and love. Emma can't get enough. Never believes she will get enough. Doesn't want to get enough. No. She always wants to feel this way, always wants to be held by Regina, always wants to be the only one who receives those looks and those kisses and those hands wandering over her body and making her forget everything but Regina.

When the kiss breaks, Emma pulls back enough so their eyes connect. They smile widely at each other. "You make me so happy," Emma whispers, suddenly shy. She rests her head on Regina's collarbone as she rolls her hips into Regina's center to distract herself from her fears.

It's not like they don't express their feelings. Even after a year of being together, they tell each other all the time, and their actions reinforce those words. Emma still has trouble believing that Regina loves her sometimes. She won't voice her insecurities to Regina. She'd never want Regina to believe she isn't doing enough to let Emma know.

It's just that Emma doesn't deserve it. She's a nobody. Worthless.

In the middle of the night, during the darkest hours, her fears invade her mind. And she wonders. She wonders whether their being together might have something to do with Jefferson's attempt to kill Regina, whether she just had been so grateful when Emma had saved her that those feelings morphed into their being together. She wonders whether Regina ever regrets that, whether she's just making the best of it.

But she's weak. Weak enough not to ask. Weak enough not to leave. Weak enough to accept every bit of affection Regina gives her and beg for more. Because Regina is her water. Her sustenance. And Emma's pretty sure she would never recover if Regina came to her senses and ended their relationship.

"Emma," Regina says, and her tone of voice holds a question. Emma kisses her collarbone in apology and concentrates on making Regina feel her love. This is her favorite activity in the world, after all. Loving her, touching her, feeling her.

Squeaking in surprise, Emma finds herself on her back, Regina smiling down on her. "What's bothering you, Emma?" she asks sweetly, ducking down to catch Emma's eyes as she runs a finger down her cheek.

"I don't know. Just, um, remembering last year around this time," Emma shrugs. She watches Regina's face become somber.

"I was glad to have you with me, although not under those circumstances. And my sisters were such asses!" Regina says, shaking her head.

Emma can't help but grin. Her mind returns to Christmas Day last year when she had awakened to both Regina's sisters in front of her bed.

" _She's pretty."_

" _Nice long blonde hair, and chiseled features. Looks like she has muscles, too."_

" _Do you think she'll sleep all day?"_

 _Hearing unfamiliar voices talking about her, Emma opens her eyes and looks around in confusion. Two women are staring at her._ Where's Regina? Or Henry?

" _Ah, you're awake. We wondered whether you would continue to sleep away the hours," a striking redhead says with a smile. "I'm Zee. That's my sister, Mal. How are you feeling?"_

" _Better. What has Regina told you?" Emma asks, not sure how to navigate the conversation._

" _You saved our sister's life! Went above and beyond what an employee normally would do for her boss, I must point out," Mal states with a smirk._

" _Um, well, she's worth saving," Emma mutters. She is on her side, and she doesn't know how she's going to prop herself up without revealing her discomfort._

" _I should have known," a voice growls from the doorway. Emma looks over with relief as she watches Regina enter with a tray of food. It smells heavenly. Regina places it aside and comes over to Emma. "Let me help you sit up," she says as she leans down, delivering a lingering kiss._

" _Thank you," Emma says once the pillows are propped behind her. She eyes the food with interest._

" _God, it's all so sickeningly sweet. The white knight saves the queen. The queen nurses her knight back to health," Zee sneers, although her eyes sparkle with mirth._

" _She does look rather at home in Regina's bed," Mal adds, tilting her head as if studying Emma._

" _Shut it, Zee, Mal," Regina retorts, placing the tray on Emma's lap. "Do you need anything else, love?" Emma's brows shoot up with the endearment. Regina smirks._

" _N-no. This looks delicious," Emma says, wondering whether it would be rude to start eating while they're still in the room._

" _Henry's downstairs charming Mother, but he'll be coming up in a few minutes with dessert for both of you. Do you think you'll have room?" Regina teases._

" _Please! I'll always have room for your cooking," Emma scoffs._

" _Okay. If you want more, just send Henry down for it," Regina says, leaning in to deliver another kiss. Turning to her sisters, she says, "All out. You'll have plenty of opportunities to see her in the future."_

" _I can hardly wait," Mal says with a smirk, one very similar to Regina's well-loved one. Emma wonders just how much grilling she'll have to endure. Then again, she'll be able to ask questions about Regina, too._

 _As they all say their goodbyes, Emma smiles brightly. They don't seem so bad. The sounds of their good-natured bickering fade as they return downstairs. Emma is looking forward to spending time with them._

"They weren't that bad," Emma says, releasing the memory.

"Hmm. They do like you. They say you humanize me," Regina says. "You've even impressed Mother." Her distaste for her mother, attached to the last word, makes it sound as if she has eaten something sour. They are still at odds, and Emma knows that today will be challenging for Regina.

"That's ridiculous! I'm just, well, me. Nothing special. And besides, you've always been warm and giving. I don't know how they can be serious about that. They were probably just trying to rile you up," Emma babbles as her hands rub up and down Regina's back. The feel of Regina's flexing muscles remind her of how she awoke, of how they are naked, of how they are pressed together. "Enough of that," she mutters and tangles her hand in glorious, silky locks to pull her in for a sizzling kiss.

It's as if Regina has also remembered what they were doing, her hands running up and down Emma's sides. One hand stalls on Emma's healed ribs, fingers splayed, while the other one ends up grasping Emma's right shoulder blade, directly over her scar. They keep kissing, Regina taking control, her tongue chasing Emma's into her mouth before exploring every inch. Arousal courses through Emma's veins, singing and singeing and soothing and stimulating. She feels alive and alert and loved and loveable. Whether she is worthy or not, she will never turn away from this, from Regina, from what she offers.

They move against each other slowly, undulating to a song their hearts sing together. "Oh, Emma," Regina sighs, her hand stroking Emma's ribs, her abdomen, her curls. She leans on one arm while playing in Emma's wetness, stroking gently as she takes Emma's breast in her mouth. "I love how you respond to me," she says softly. "I love you."

Her words slay Emma's insecurities, demanding she express her love fully. Arching her back as Regina enters her with two fingers, Emma says, "I love you. So much." She closes her eyes, overwhelmed by the physical stimulation, by the feelings flowing through her, by the strength of her love, Regina's love, their love.

"Look at me," Regina pleads softly. A demand wrapped in Egyptian cotton. And Emma opens her eyes, allowing Regina to see her soul and gasping as Regina's fingers pump relentlessly, demanding she be entirely present as they make love.

"God," Emma moans, her voice thick, feeling her body quickening, her climax approaching. She pulls Regina into her, needing the contact, needing to be as close as possible. Regina moves her hips in time with each stroke, pushing against her hand, perspiration forming along her hairline. She's gorgeous and fierce and stunning and intense. Emma loves being the center of her attention, her affection. She moves her hand down Regina's side, her hip, her thigh, before finally finding Regina's warm, wet center. She's so wet, and Emma groans loudly. "You feel so good."

They pick up the pace, staring into each other's eyes, breathing each other's air, and their bodies tremble, shudder, and break apart as eyes squeeze tight and inner muscles pull fingers further inside, not wanting to let go. And as they slow down, they lie in an exhausted heap with wide smiles. This is heaven. This is miraculous. This is perfect.

The next time Emma wakes, the room is much lighter. Regina remains tucked tightly into her side, their legs entangled, her face burrowed in the crook of Emma's neck. She runs her fingers gently through Regina's brunette locks, smiling tenderly as caramel-colored eyes flutter open. Her fuzzy gaze sharpens as she becomes aware of her surroundings, and Emma watches those eyes she love getting lost in darken to a beautiful chocolate hue.

"Hi," Emma says softly. "I think it snowed."

Regina's smile is just as breathtaking as the first time she gifted it to Emma after they had shared their first kiss. "I'm going to make you the best breakfast you've ever tasted," she says before their mouths meet.

They kiss languidly, and Emma falls more in love. She fights her feelings of inadequacy, not wanting to dwell on all the reasons why Regina could do so much better, deserves so much more.

"Before Henry gets up, I want to talk to you about something," Regina says as she sits up, pulling the covers over her chest and interlacing their fingers together. She glances at Emma nervously, a trait that is so uncommon it causes Emma's chest to tighten.

"Are you, did I do something wrong?" Emma asks. This is it. This is when she suggests they not spend as much together. This is when she lets her down easy.

"I want you and Henry to move in with me."

"Wh-what?" Emma says, dazed. One of the hardest decisions Emma made was to move out of Regina's home after a week of recuperating there, the day before Henry's winter break ended. But Emma knew Henry wasn't ready to relocate or have to deal with a new commute, and Emma didn't want Regina's offer to be the result of feeling guilty or obligated. They'd argued so much over it that Emma had feared they would not be able to move forward in their relationship. Until Regina showed up on her steps the day after Emma returned to her apartment, a bouquet of flowers in her hand and an apologetic smile on her face.

"I understand why you said no last year, but Henry's commuted from here several times over the past year, and he's told me it's no big deal. And I love when you're both here. I want to share my life with you, Emma. If I didn't think you'd freak out, I'd be asking for more than this. So, please," Regina says, one hand reaching out to cup Emma's cheek, "please say yes. I love you."

"How, how could you want me?" Emma asks, not understanding. "You deserve so much better—"

"Emma," Regina interrupts firmly, her eyes serious. "You have saved me by loving me. I am a different person, a better person. And you are all that I want, all that I need."

"What if you change your mind?" Emma asks hesitantly.

"What if you do?" she volleys back, eyebrow raised.

Emma can't help but chuckle. "That's never gonna happen."

"Exactly. Look, love," Regina says, her thumb stroking Emma's cheek. "I made a promise I intend to keep. I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I need you, how much I love you. I want you to feel my love every day. And it will be so much better with us all in one place." Regina smirks before pushing out her bottom lip in a good imitation of Henry's face when he's trying to convince them to do something he has his heart set on. "Don't you want to wake up in my arms each morning? Don't you want to greet each day with me right next to you? Don't you want to taste my cooking every day?"

Emma can't hold in the guffaw. She's brought out the big guns—food. "Well, when you put it that way," she laughs. She pulls Regina toward her and kisses her with all the love, all the passion, all the trust that she has for this incredible woman. They smile brightly at each other before hugging tightly. "You know," Emma whispers. "What you were saying, the words you used, they kind of sounded like a marriage proposal."

Slowly Regina leans back, her eyes searching Emma's for several moments. Emma, surprisingly, feels something settle within her. She does belong with Regina. To Regina. And even if she's not convinced that she's worthy of Regina's affections, even if she feels like a sham, a fraud, expendable, Regina feels otherwise.

"And how do you feel about that possibility?" Regina asks carefully, her complete attention on Emma's face.

Emma knows that this is important, that her next words can affect their future, that if she's ever going to stop being that unwanted orphan, that worthless loner, that damaged girl, then she needs to accept how, in Regina's eyes and mind and heart, she is worthy.

"I love you with all my heart, and I can't live in a world without you in it," Emma says, repeating words she had uttered to Regina while in the hospital last year. "I'm yours in any way that you want. Including as your wife." Emma exhales, glad she has said the words. Made the leap. Given Regina everything she has. Excitement bubbles through her at the possibility of being with Regina for the rest of their lives.

Regina jumps up from the bed and hurries to her bureau, rummaging around before rejoining Emma, who is devouring Regina's nude body with her eyes. Her eyes widen when Regina opens a jewelry box in front of her and removes a ring. Her mouth drops open as Regina takes her left hand, slides the ring on her finger, and kisses it reverently. "My savior, my hero, my love. Marry me, Emma."

Tears flow down her cheeks, and Emma nods her head as she reaches for her fiancée. "Yes. Of course. I'd be honored to be your wife." She pulls Regina forward, and they kiss while laughing and crying and hugging.

"You guys awake?" Henry yells through the door. "I'm starving out here."

They break apart and rush to put clothes on. Emma wraps Regina in a tight hug and kisses her again. "The ring is beautiful. Henry's gonna flip."

With a sparkle in her eyes, Regina says, "He helped me pick it out. I asked for his blessing a while ago."

"You, you asked for his blessing?" Emma asked, stunned. _How romantic is that?_ "God, I love you!"

Smiling widely, Regina says, "Call me Regina." And as they move to join Henry, Regina says, "I'm going to spend the rest of our lives loving you. Because you matter, Emma Swan."

And finally, finally, while gazing into eyes filled with adoration and earnestness, Emma believes. She believes that she matters.

The End.


End file.
